


Legends of Fall

by CoffeeFairy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Small Town, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Coming Untouched, Communication, Consensual Kink, Eventual Happy Ending, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, Praise Kink, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro Calls Keith Baby, Shiro with some self-esteem issues, Socially Awkward Keith (Voltron), Strangers to Lovers, gratuitous car metaphors, slowish burn, soft sheith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21651019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeFairy/pseuds/CoffeeFairy
Summary: Keith Kogane is not a fan of change. However, when it arrives in the shape of an insanely hot veterinarian he might have to rethink his stance.Chapter 14 ExcerptAnd then, there it was. Not the image of them, old and wrinkled and riding a motorcycle with a sidecar. But the feeling. The sense of Shiro next to him, through the weeks and the months and the years. The warm, steady presence of his body by his side, of the weight of him on the other side of the bed. His shadow stretching next to Keith’s own, his hand wrapped securely around his. Shiro’s voice in his ear, his breath on his lips, his heartbeat against Keith’s. He felt all of it, and it compressed his chest, pushed the air from his lungs in a slow squeeze. This was it. This was forever.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 155
Kudos: 267





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time in early October, I wanted to write something short and cute about Sheith doing autumn things. Here we are at the currently hundred page WIP about a lot more than pumpkin spice lattes and cute scarves...I hope you'll like it :D

Keith grimaced internally as he heard the car driving up the lane. The motor sounded like an asthmatic cow. Someone should just put it out of its misery. And that someone, was he. However, telling people their car was worth more as scrap than as a mode of transport never went down very well. It was something he could do without on a morning that was already packed.

The pained efforts of the car he heard told him it’d made it around the building to the entrance, a small miracle in itself, and with a light sigh, Keith straightened from the engine he was currently working on. Wiping his hands on a rag he then stuck in his back pocket, he steered for the garage. It was going to be a sweltering day and even though it was still shy of eleven, the air was warming quickly. Dressed in light jeans and a sleeveless t-shirt, Keith hoped the temperature wouldn’t climb a lot higher. Partly because he just didn’t like the heat, and partly because cars and hot weather just spelled disaster and he was already booked solid for the next three days. Hot weather also made for irritable customers and Keith was irritable himself on a good day so it was bad for business. Besides, it was already September and it should be cooling down, not warming up.

Turning the corner to where the owner of the vehicle in its death throes had parked, Keith spotted it. It was a miracle it was still holding together at all. It was a black Jeep Cherokee and it must have tens of thousands of miles on the clock. It had to be stuck together with tape and a prayer, only running if the road was downhill. Keith feared if he touched it, it’d collapse like in a cartoon, in a cloud of dust. 

The owner of the car opened the door and stepped out. 

In a single second Keith went from wanting to scrap the car to willing to fix it just to keep the owner coming back again. He was tall, broad, chiselled and perfect. Keith couldn’t see his eyes behind tinted aviators but his hair was glinting silver, his smile jump started his nervous system and his jaw made Keith’s heart purr like a Maserati engine. 

“Hey.” The tone was vaguely apologetic and the slanted smile a bit sheepish. 

And the voice matched the rest of him, damn it all. Keith had a weak spot for deep voices. 

“Hey,” he returned and stuck his hands in his pockets, mainly so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch his newest potential customer. 

“My car...it’s making some weird noises.”

Keith thought that the car was screaming for the sweet release of death but didn’t say anything. 

“Do you think you could have a look?”

Keith was pretty sure what he’d find when he opened to hood was a smoking graveyard but he gave a short nod. If it’d keep him in the man’s orbit, he’d stare at a tree growing. 

Opening the hood of the Jeep, he had his worst suspicions confirmed. 

“Do you think it’s the radiator? It’s been the radiator before.”

The man had appeared behind him, peering over his shoulder into the car. Keith suppressed a shiver at the notion of how tall the man was exactly, and how close he was standing behind him. It made all sorts of electrifying, inappropriate ideas dance in his mind.

He turned his head and got the full impact of the man’s face close up. He’d removed the sunglasses and revealed gray eyes, a worried frown doing nothing to detract from the diamond cut if his jaw, the even features, high cheekbones or full lips. Helpless, Keith felt his heart rev higher, vibrating in his chest now. 

Never in his life had he met anyone who had such an immediate, powerful, elemental impact on him. It was for the kind of trashy novels Mrs Holt read and which you were not allowed to snort at unless you wanted a long lecture on how women’s literary accomplishments would always be considered less than a man’s. Grateful for the distraction in his thoughts of Mrs H, who’d always been like a second mother to him, he was able to force some words out through a dry throat. 

“Among other things.”

“Oh.” The man chewed his bottom lip and Keith lost the stride he’d made, slipping heedlessly back into a whirling pool of inappropriate fantasies. He wondered just how soft that full bottom lip was, and what would happen if he bit it himself. “Will it be expensive do you think?”

Keith sighed internally and bid goodbye to the most gorgeous man he had ever seen. “Yes. This car is worth more if you scrap it. In fact, I’d recommend you do.”

“I see…”

Keith had seen the gaze skittering over the asphalt before, knew it was the look of someone doing math in their head and arriving at a depressing negative balance number. 

“Listen, why don’t I look this over and work up an exact estimate of how much it’d run you to repair and then you can decide what you want to do?” He heard himself offer something that would take him several hours and would in the end be futile as the car was the vehicle age equivalent of Methuselah. 

But the gratitude that lit up the gray eyes wiped the sting of the extra hours away. 

“Would you?”

“All right.”

“Thank you so much, that’s very kind.”

It was very stupid was what it was but Keith wasn’t going to disabuse him of any notion that made himself look even slightly better. 

“No problem. I’ll have it ready for you by tomorrow.”

“Thank you, that’s perfect. I’ll come back then.”

The man held out his hand and catching on slower than a comatose sloth, Keith finally took it. The skin on skin contact zinged through his blood and feeling just how much of his own hand it covered his knees turned liquid. 

With a final, friendly nod the man headed down the drive and Keith let out a long, slow breath.

“Holy fuck,” he told no one in particular.

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

Takashi Shirogane was a sensible, practical, educated man. He wasn’t impulsive or hot headed. Or at least that was how he had thought about himself up until half an hour ago. Then he had driven up to the auto repair shop and spotted a mechanic that made everything heave on its axis. He’d never put any stock in old cliches but it turned out he did apparently have a huge thing for mechanics. Tough, dirtied and dishevelled the man had turned the corner, looking annoyed already. It had done nothing to take away from the impression of him. Long, dark hair, pulled back into a stubby ponytail, some of it escaping and plastering to his neck, fan his face. A narrow face, scruff on his jaw, magnetic dark blue eyes. A sleeveless t-shirt, a humble type of garment Shiro found now he’d never appreciated enough, not when it could billow teasingly around a lean torso, display biceps of the kind you got from working, not going to a gym. Light, ripped jeans slung low on narrow hips wrapped around long, long legs that strode easily towards him. 

Sitting like in a trance, he hadn’t been able to wake himself until the mechanic was almost there. Shiro sincerely hoped the sunlight had obscured his awestruck staring from the front seat. 

Climbing out, he’d explained the problem to the mechanic who had yet to crack a smile. 

_ Maybe he doesn’t like being stared at like he’s from another planet by strangers! _ Shiro chided himself. If he’d seen. Hopefully he hadn’t seen. 

The mechanic had made no move towards the car, just stood, face unreadable and his eyes on Shiro’s.

“Do...Do you think you could have a look?”

The other man gave a short nod and opened the hood and then bent at the waist to peer at the engine. Shiro tore his eyes from the denim stretching in a particularly delightful way and stepped closer to get the tantalizing view out of his line of sight. 

Scrambling, he babbled about the radiator. It was the last thing he’d had fixed.

“Among other things,” the man had responded and it was the longest sentence he’d uttered so far. Shiro fought a barrage of butterflies in his stomach at the deep, slightly raspy voice. It sounded rough, maybe from disuse, and it chased tingles down his spine. 

Then he’d given his honest opinion about the car, which wasn’t news to Shiro. The last three times the car had been repaired, he’d been told the same. But he needed this car.

Looking like he wasn’t entirely sure why, the mechanic had offered to look it over and work up an estimate.

Grateful and dazed, Shiro had left him with the car and its keys.

Now, sitting in the building he had bought unseen for his business, he wondered if he was crazy in more ways than one. 

“What are you doing, sitting here in the dark?”

Allura, his best friend and business partner, stuck her head into the room, her English accent lilting the words. It was a leftover from private boarding school many years ago. An all girls’ school in East Sussex.

“Ah…” He cleared his throat. “I think...I think I just saw the most gorgeous man on the planet.”

Immediately interested, the blonde zoomed into the room. “You what? You’re in this town less than five minutes and you already found someone?”

“I didn’t find anyone, Allura, I don’t even know his name.”

He realized it with a start. He didn’t even know the man’s name.

“And he’s much younger than me, and even if that’s fine, I’ve got this, and-” he gestured to the prosthesis. “And...everything,” he finished quietly. 

His best friend knew better than anyone what “everything” meant. Shiro had more scars than the ones on his body.

Allura’s eyes softened. “Shiro, you know that none of those things will make you less in the eyes of someone who truly likes you. They make you you and anyone who doesn’t like it isn’t worthy of you.” She nodded at the end as if to agree with herself. 

“Now, what did this gorgeous man look like? No, wait, I want to hear everything but I also want a drink and food. Let’s go.”

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

“You’re quiet, even by your standards today,” Pidge stated and rocked back on her stool so it balanced precariously. With her short stature, her feet dangled some inches higher than the other customers’ at the bar. If anyone dared to comment on that, they’d get a punch somewhere around midriff height. 

Thursday drinks was a standing appointment in the calendar. Keith, Hunk, Lance and Pidge had been friends since school and now working their different careers, they had decided one day a week would still be theirs. Meeting at Hunk’s bar, Yellow, was convenient and carried a nice friend discount. Hunk was behind the bar, despite being off duty, probably from habit. Lance, Pidge and Keith were all sitting in a row, Lance mostly babbling and Keith mostly drinking. 

“Yeah, Mullet, what gives?”

The pet name was thankfully no longer apt, but the memory that it once had been made Keith’s soul shrivel. 

“No reason.” Keith tipped back his beer, trying to ease his still dry throat. He’d gotten a lot less done today than he wanted, his mind wandering to the man with the bucket of scrap for a car over and over. How his voice had sounded, how kind his eyes had looked, how large his hands were, how good his jeans fit, how wide his shoulders had been. Relentlessly his mind had churned through the memory of him like it was giving a PowerPoint presentation on “Things Keith Is Attracted To”. Slide after slide of a different facet of the man’s being. 

“That might have worked when you were twelve. I know you. Something’s up.”

Lance was pointing with the neck of his beer bottle, squinting. Keith happened to know it was his “I’m a detective and I can see right through you” look. In fact, Lance was the youngest police officer at the station but he harboured a lifelong dream of one day becoming the sheriff of their small town. Now, sitting on the stool with his back to the bar for a back rest, he looked at ease in a way he hadn’t through the years. 

“Nothing is up, I just had a long day.”

Pidge, who was a lot sharper than Lance, tilted her head in the corner of his eye. She wasn’t wearing her lab coat but the way she carried herself, she might as well have been. Working up at the Observatory outside town with the rest of her family, she was the only one to have lived away while she powered through a record fast PhD. With her diploma in astrophysics, she’d returned just a year ago. Keith didn’t need to tell her but he’d missed her like a sister while she was away.

“I’m with Lance. So, cough it up.”

Keith was still debating if he would when Lance’s hand landed on his shoulder. The grip was vice-like and he was about to protest when he saw his friend’s face. He was staring at something at the opposite end of the room. Leaning back so he could follow the line of sight, he saw a slender, blonde woman weaving her way through the room. 

“That is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Keith didn’t pay her a lot of mind when he spotted the man walking behind her. It was Him. The man who hadn’t left his thoughts since that morning. If possible, he looked even better than he remembered. Keith cursed not guessing he could appear. There weren’t a lot of options in town and he was staying at least the night since his car, as Keith very well knew, wasn’t going anywhere. 

The woman, who he could tell was beautiful in an objective manner, reached behind her to squeeze the man’s hand with a smile. Keith’s heart sank. Of course a man like that would be taken already. Hunching over the bar, he hoped he could escape the man seeing him. Pidge, who despite having little to no interest in romance was still scarily astute when it came to the feelings of others, was watching him, not Lance. She kicked him lightly in the shin and tipped her chin up in the direction of the man who was potentially a superior being. From twelve years of friendship he knew the unspoken words were “That guy’s your type, huh?”

Keith grimaced and leaned lower over the bar. Sometimes he wished Pidge was a little bit less astute. 

Romelle, who had the shift behind the bar this evening, suddenly gave a little shriek and rushed towards the newcomers. Hugging the tall woman, she chattered excitedly. All Keith could make out was the exclamation, “You’re here!”

“That has to be Romelle’s cousin, the vet.”

Hunk was speaking and Pidge piped in, “The one taking over for Coran?”

Dr Coran had been the veterinarian in town for the last twenty years and had recently retired. His practice, Keith had heard through the grapevine, was going to be taken over by one of his relatives. An Outsider. In a town their size, it was Big News. 

“Yeah. I heard she was bringing a business partner.”

Business partner...and something else, Keith thought and pictured the warm way the woman had looked back at the man. 

“I’ve got to go.” He finished his beer, slid off the stool and into his jacket. Before his friends had time to protest, he’d stridden for the door. 

**  
  
**

o.O.o

****  
  


Allura’s distant cousin, Romelle, had seated them in a booth and was talking at five hundred miles a minute while giving them menus. She managed to take their drink order as well as catch up on at least three of their common relations in under a minute. 

“Back in a sec!” She called cheerily over her shoulder.

“So,” he said. “That’s Romelle.”

Allura chuckled. “The one and only. I’m looking forward to living closer to her so we can get to know each other properly again.”

Shiro knew Romelle had visited Allura several summers in a row when they were younger but contact had been more sporadic in the later years.

“Yeah, it’s nice that you have a friend in town alrea…” Shiro trailed off mid-word as the mechanic he’d seen earlier entered his field of vision. 

He’d cleaned up from earlier, no grease streaked on his being anymore. He was walking purposefully to the door, a beaten up leather jacket adding to the impression of rock star he conveyed. His hair was no longer tied back but fell in shaggy layers around his face and Shiro felt a powerful urge to wrap his hands in it and tug. The man would sigh, tip his head back, offering the long, graceful column of his throat and-

“That’s him, isn’t it?”

Allura’s voice interrupted his thoughts just as the door swung shut behind the mechanic. 

Shiro wasn’t sure his words worked, his eyes still fastened on the door he’d just left through.

“Yeah, he is hot. I like the whole moody rocker, mechanic, tough guy thing. Very appealing.” She cocked her head as the sound of a motor started up outside. “And he drives a motorcycle.”

Shiro tried to make some sort of sound but his throat just clicked in response to the mental image of the man straddling a bike.

Allura laughed, a light, twinkling sound. “Oh, you’re in trouble, aren’t you?”


	2. Chapter 2

Keith had stared at the meagre contents of his wardrobe moodily for twenty minutes, wondering why everything in it looked stupid today. It wasn’t like he was trying to dress up for work, he just wanted to… He had no idea what he wanted to express with whatever t-shirt he wore but despite knowing that the man he’d met yesterday was attached, he wanted to make a good impression on him. Or something like that. Apparently he was new in town and there to stay so Keith figured he had to find some way of getting along with him. Or at least not freeze up into mute idiocy every time he spotted him. 

Annoyed with himself for wasting time picking a shirt that the man couldn’t care less about anyway, he picked a washed out concert tee and slammed his door shut. 

Climbing into his pickup truck, he whistled sharply and Kosmo came racing around the small house and bounded into the load bay. Setting off, the radio flicked on and he heard nothing for the whole ten minute drive to work. 

When he got there, his mind was still busy absorbing the fact that the man was the new vet’s “business partner”. Did that mean he was a vet too? He had to grit his teeth against the assault of several images of the man in a white coat. Why? The whole of the Holt family wore white lab coats at work and none of them or the people around them had ever clued him in on that he might have a thing for them.

_ Maybe _ , the snidest voice in his head added,  _ you just have a thing for him. In any way _ .

He slammed the door shut metaphorically in his head as he did it to his car on that thought. 

“Keith!” Kolivan called him. Jerking his head in the direction of the front, Keith knew that meant “customer”. His uncle, also his boss, didn’t like to use more words than necessary, a trait Keith appreciated. 

Rounding the corner he spotted the new guy in town, leaning against his car. His first reaction was worry that the car would collapse, or roll away. That was quickly replaced by a long, swooping pull in his stomach like a roller coaster had just pulled him from weightlessness to the thrilling effect of G-forces toying with his inner organs. It was a tickling, breathless sensation and it put him on edge. He wasn’t comfortable with letting people close, letting them have an impact on him. This man made him react impossibly quickly, in ways he’d never thought real outside a sappy film. If he lived in an anime he was sure he’d have little hearts in his eyes whenever he saw this man. 

Annoyed at himself already, he pushed his hands into his pockets. Tearing his eyes from the long, muscular legs and a Henley clearly doing God’s work for how it made Keith’s heart light up, he approached, gaze now on the asphalt between them.

Spotting him, the man straightened, luckily without the car faltering like a house of cards. 

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m early. I didn’t realize you weren’t in yet, I didn’t mean to chase you but your boss said this was your job so I’d have to wait, which I totally don’t mind, it was my fault, I’m just keen to find out what the damage is and…” He had to stop to take a breath and Keith wondered exactly how nervous one could be to find out a bill estimate. Had this car been to war with him or something? It had to have astronomical sentimental value if he didn’t just scrap it. 

The man smiled, disarmingly, as if he knew how he appeared. “What  _ is  _ the damage?”

Keith had argued with himself until the small hours about that. Clearly, he was under no obligation to give this man a discount. On the other hand, the man obviously cared about this car and the only one it’d affect would be him. There was the cost of parts, the cut that went to the shop, and then his own cut and there he could make his own calls. Moodily he stared at the bucket of rust propelled forward by what had to be sheer will. 

He named a figure. It was at a pretty steep discount but Keith couldn’t make himself go higher. It was still a number comparable to buying a new second hand car. 

“That…” the man blinked. “That seems very reasonable.”

As it was practically at cost, Keith sincerely hoped so. He really was an immense sucker. The man, who had no interest in him whatsoever, and was in fact happily attached to a gorgeous woman, still had a face so pretty Keith couldn’t help but want to impress him. 

Along with the looks though, there was something in his eyes when the mention of scrapping the car came up that intrigued him. It wasn’t just hesitation for money he saw now, it was something else. Something that had fear creeping into the steel gray gaze. And that, even more thoroughly than the stellar face, had convinced Keith he wanted to get this pile of scrap to run again. 

“It’ll take me a while,” Keith warned. He sure as hell was not getting anyone else involved in his self-imposed slave labour.

“No problem. My partner can drive me where I need to go for a while. Thank you, really.”

The smile that followed the words was wide, easy and boyish.

Keith nodded, not convinced his voice would work.

As if sensing the awkwardness that wanted to settle between them, Kosmo came trotting around the corner. He padded to Keith’s side and he automatically put a hand on his head.

“Is it your dog?”

Keith nodded again, wishing he wouldn’t give quite so good an impression of the Monosyllabic Man he’d been accused of being in high school. 

“He’s beautiful,” the man smiled down at Kosmo. “What’s his name?”

“K...Kosmo.” 

The man sank to one knee and something in Keith’s hindbrain delighted in the perspective. Keith wished really hard he didn’t know now exactly the height the man would come to on his knees. He’d had enough sweaty dreams about him already and he’d only met him yesterday.

“He’s not very fond of strangers.”

Some people took offense at that, as if he could convince his dog to like people just because they wanted him to. 

“These breeds aren’t, sometimes. Flock instinct.” The man slowly held out his hand, his voice almost purring in a way that Keith also wished he’d never heard. “Hey, Kosmo.”

To his surprise, his dog gave the hand a tentative sniff, and then he padded closer, allowing the man to pet him. For all the world it looked like he’d met the man every day of his life. Tongue lolling, he looked adoringly up at the broad man. Keith wondered uncomfortably if he was wearing a similar look at seeing the wide, unguarded smile the man wore as he rubbed his delighted dog. Endearments spoken under his breath warmed the air, and Keith’s face. 

The man looked up, his hands still in a blissed out Kosmo’s fur. “I’m Shiro, by the way.”

Shiro. He finally had a name.

“Keith.”

Shiro held up a hand, and Keith took it. 

Getting back to his feet, Kosmo remained close, leaning his entire weight against his leg. 

“So, for such a good deal, how about I return the favor? If you bring this handsome boy here, I’ll give him a check-up for free. He can be my first customer in town.”

Keith swore internally. Damn the man, couldn’t he have been the practice accountant or something? 

“You’re a vet too?”

“I am. Allura is going to handle more of the larger animals, horses, cows, farms. I mainly deal with pets. So, how about it?”

Keith, given the chance to see him again, was willing to drag Kosmo to his practice. So he nodded.

“Great,” the man said, and weirdly, he looked like he meant it.

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

Shiro breathlessly relayed the morning to Allura who was listening while taking inventory in the store room. Her uncle had left a lot of supplies and she was using a clipboard to make notes for what they would still need to get. 

“So you basically lured him here with free vet care so you could see him again.”

Shiro knew he should be embarrassed about this but the elation of seeing - Keith, he finally had a name - was still too overpowering to give much room for awkwardness. 

“Yeah.”

Allura turned fully. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks,” Shiro grinned. 

“So, when is he coming?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“I’ll make sure to be out,” she said with a wink over he shoulder. Returning to her clipboard, she added, “Oh, and wear the gray scrubs. Pale turquoise isn’t your colour.”

Shiro would like to have said he had not spent the last forty-eight hours thinking about his very first appointment in Altea. That would be a lie. He had managed to get a lot of the set-up done for the clinic, but he’d done it while his mind stubbornly returned again and again to the serious-faced mechanic. 

His hands, so slender and elegant yet covered in calluses. His slim but built frame, the incredibly long legs swathed in faded denim. The hair that fell untidily around his face, the strong, raw bones of it. His eyes that made Shiro’s stomach clench every time he looked into the depth of blue so dark it edged into violet.

Luckily the town had provided a bit of a distraction while he ran the errands he had to. He opened a bank account with the small town bank, shopped at the local market for food for the week, visited the arts and crafts store for some things to make his new place a home and returned to the bar he’d gone with Allura (fighting the hope that Keith would maybe be there again). Everywhere he went, people wanted to greet him, talk to him. He wasn’t used to so many people being friendly and openly curious about him. A bit too curious sometimes, and he’d ducked away when conversations edged towards the reason for the prosthesis. But in general, people were nice. Several had already wanted to make appointments and he’d had to give up on the idea that they needed to call the clinic to make a booking. He’d quickly set up a system where his and Allura’s phones linked to the clinic’s computer system so he could add appointments on the go. 

The feeling of the surroundings was so different to what he’d left, he still reeled a little. 

He’d grown up in a suburb of Chicago, and he’d moved there after spending his years away for school. He’d always loved the city. The noise, the lights, the smells, the excitement. There was always something happening, people to meet, things to do. He’d taken in it all, gone to art openings, night cinema, dance events, classes, twenty-four hour gyms. It was only after his accident that the city had changed to him. Or he’d changed. Either way, it had stopped being the place he’d fallen in love with.

Three years after the Event, Allura had suggested he come with her for a change of scene and he’d agreed. He didn’t really know what else to do.

And now he was here, in Altea, a small town in Arizona, close to the border to both New Mexico and Colorado. If anyone had told him a few years earlier he’d live in a small town, he’d have protested. It wasn’t for him. Now, years after feeling safe anywhere, here he was. It was too early to tell if it had made a big difference but at least the change of pace was distracting him from a lot of the thoughts he had started circling around in Chicago.

Though that was due to both Altea and a certain mechanic who occupied a lot of his sleeping and waking thoughts. 

Staring into space, he was startled by the knock on the front door and he popped up. He’d forgotten to unlock the front door after he finished setting up for the day.

Hurrying to the door, he saw Keith on the doorstep, squinting against the morning sun as he looked down the street. Shiro’s heart did a little pirouette, and then a grand jete at the sight. Keith was dressed in jeans without holes today, and the beaten up leather jacket he’d worn at the bar. Kosmo was sitting at his feet, looking down the street as well. 

He unlocked the door and opened it and Kosmo slunk in, tail whipping. Greeting the dog, he gave himself a moment before looking up at Keith.

“Sorry, I forgot the door was locked.”

“That’s okay. I know you’re not open yet.”

“You do?”

“So I hear. I’m told you’re opening on the 4th.”

Shiro smiled and rose from greeting the deliriously happy mutt. “I forget I’m in a small town sometimes.”

“News travel fast. And new people are always big news.”

Shiro gestured for him to go into the first examination room on the left, passing through the waiting room.

“I’m not sure how I feel being big news.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll only be big news for a few weeks.” Keith sent him a look over his shoulder. “But you’ll be a newcomer forever.”

It was the most Shiro had heard the mechanic talk since they met. Patting the examination table, Kosmo willingly bounded up.

“How did you do that?” 

Shiro wished he could keep a mysterious “dog whisperer” persona in Keith’s eyes but he had to succumb to Kosmo’s obvious nosing. 

“Bribes. He can smell them,” he smiled and offered the big dog a treat from his coat pocket.

While the dog munched, Shiro began running his hands down his body, legs and tail. 

Keith was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching his hands intently and Shiro felt self-conscious, despite having done check-ups hundreds of times.

“You said “some of his breed are like that”, the other day. What breed is he?”

“You don’t know?”

Keith shrugged. “I have no idea. I found him by the side of the road when he was just a puppy.”

“Oh.” Shiro tried to stop his heart fluttering at the thought of the tough mechanic with a heart soft enough to take in a stray. He cleared his throat. “At a guess, he’s a Croatian sheepdog cross. Probably with something bigger, maybe an Alaskan Malamute.”

He’d moved on to the dog’s teeth and mouth, using a pen lamp to see. 

“And that's why he’s so big?”

“Yeah, Malamutes are big. Where did you find him?”

“Off the interstate. I was on my bike but I managed to zip him into my jacket and take him home.”

Though image, soft spot for animals, a body made from Shiro’s deepest desires. Allura was right. He really was in trouble.

Trying to focus on feeling Kosmo’s lymph nodes, Shiro looked away. The owner of this particular dog was a bit too much of a distraction. 

“So you’ve never lived in a small town before?”

“No, I moved here from Chicago.”

There was a quiet spell and Shiro wondered if the Keith of few words he’d been up until then was back. Then, just as the silence was edging towards awkward, Keith blurted,

“I could show you around.” 

Shiro looked up, surprised.

“I mean, if you want. You don’t have to. There’s not much, I just...I’ve lived here all my life so if you wanted to see some places, I could take you, or you know, we could go or…” He trailed off and looked uncomfortable where he slouched. “It’s stupid. You take three left turns and you’ve seen it.”

“No, no, I’d like to!” Shiro wished he hadn’t sounded quite so desperate to see the three street corners of Altea. “I mean, it’s kind of you to offer. I’d love to see more of the town.”

“Oh.” Keith looked surprised he’d accepted. “Then...then I’ll see you.”

“Great.” Shiro didn’t know the last time he’d had butterflies in his stomach but he recognized the sensation immediately. “And I’m happy to tell you you have a dog in perfect health.”

Kosmo, as if he understood him, waved his tail and then jumped down from the table. 

“That’s good.”

Pushing his hands into his pockets, Keith hesitated.

“So...when...when would be good for you to…”

Shiro stopped himself from saying “how about now,'' like some desperate teenager and quickly debated with himself how long was socially acceptable.

“Sunday?”

Keith nodded. “All right. Sunday.” And with that he left.

Shiro, standing in the examination room, wondered over the contrast. Keith was kind and clearly considerate, yet his words often came across as abrupt or unfeeling. He was someone who so clearly cared, yet his stance, his words, his voice, all screamed the impression of someone who didn’t. Shiro was already sure it was the distant part that was the pretence, but why? 

With a smile to himself that he already knew when he’d see him again, Shiro turned to get the supplies for cleaning off the table. 

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

“Spill, or buy the next round,” Pidge said as she sunk down in the seat across from Keith at the table. 

“What?” He looked up from staring moodily at his beer bottle. Most of the label was peeled off and lay in sad scraps on the table top. 

His friend raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “You - “ she pointed at him, speaking slowly as if to a particularly dimwitted child. “-tell me what’s bothering you, or you,” she pointed again, to him and then herself “buy me a beer. I’m only putting up with not knowing if I’m drinking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Please. I’ve known you since you were riding around the neighbourhood on that red Big Wheel. I know when something’s up.”

Keith considered. Pidge was no tattle-tale, and she did know him better than probably anyone. Also, without Lance there to offer his unsolicited dating advice he felt compelled to give as he lived under the delusion he was some sort of Casanova, it’d be a lot easier.

“Fine.”

Pidge’s hand shot up and she nodded to Hunk who was behind the bar. He sent Keith a look and he nodded. He could use another beer if he was admitting to anyone he was a twenty-four year old man with a crush. A crush on a man he’d met for a combined grand total of about half an hour.

Hunk brought their beers over and Pidge settled back. Keith took a deep pull from his bottle, and searched for the words. His friend just waited patiently. It was something he’d always appreciated about Pidge. She might be pushy to get him to talk, but once he’d agreed to, she’d always given him the time he needed to find the right words. It had always taken him longer than others and it had always made people believe he was cold, or slow. The reality was he just needed a little longer than others to line words up in his head so what made sense in his head would make sense outside of it.

“You know that new vet? Coran’s replacement?”

“Allura? Sure.”

“She has a business partner.”

“Yeah, I heard. Big city guy, tall, handsome. He was in here the other night.”

“He  _ is _ handsome,” Keith agreed. “ _ Really _ handsome,” he added, his tone almost pleading now, hoping Pidge would get it.

“Yeah, I heard. All the women at the…” She trailed off. “ _ Ohhh _ .” Her eyebrows rose comically as the point dawned on her. “ _ Really _ handsome, huh?”

Keith groaned and leaned his forehead on his crossed arms on the table. Maybe if he hid his face it’d be less embarrassing to admit.

“He’s so fucking hot, Pidge. I see him and my brain’s reduced to some kind of hormonal soup.”

He heard his friend sip her beer. “Actually, that’d be adrenaline, dopamine and serotonin soup.”

He snorted. “I don’t really care what kind it is. The point is, he reduces my IQ to something below an empty cardboard box and to make matters worse, he’s taken.”

“Taken? He’s been here like three days, taken by whom?”

“Allura!”

“Really? He said so?”

“He didn’t have to, Pidge. I saw them in here the other night.”

“So did I. I didn’t see a “taken” sign anywhere on the guy.”

“You know what I mean. They were holding hands.”

“I just saw her talking to Romelle. In fact, why don’t you just ask her?” He heard Pidge move in her seat, presumably looking for the blonde bartender.

“No!” His head snapped up. “No, Romelle can’t know.”

“Why?”

“You know why. I love Romelle but she’s like a sieve when it comes to keeping things private.”

Pidge shrugged and leaned back in her seat. “So, ask him yourself then.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Because then he’d know!” Really. Sometimes for being really smart, Pidge was really slow.

“I have never seen you so worked up over a guy. Normally you’re all casual, inviting anyone hot to your place without so much as batting an eyelid. Why can’t you just do that?”

It was true. If he was attracted to someone, Keith was not usually one to beat around the bush. But despite being hotter than the sun, what he felt for Shiro was already more complicated than just a physical urge and he couldn’t picture trying any of his normal ways of bringing a guy home.

“I don’t know, okay? He’s just…” he tried to put it into words. “He’s just different.”

“Because he’s  _ really  _ hot,” Pidge nodded sagely.

“Yes. No. It’s just...he seems really nice. And he’s got really kind eyes. Kosmo liked him right away, and he didn’t even mind getting a check-up at the clinic with him. He loves his car, even though it’s a piece of crap, and he’s got this really charming smile. And he has to be really smart, I saw his diploma at the clinic and he went to Cornell…”

He looked across the table to see Pidge looking amused.

“What?”

“You sound like Lance when he has a crush.”

“Shut up, I do not.”

Pidge held up her hands with a laugh. “You’re in trouble, tough guy. Big time.”

**  
  
  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed chapter 2!


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro didn’t know what they were going to be doing but he talked himself out of a button down. Button downs were for date territory and this was just...not a date. Just a small town custom, being friendly to the newcomer. So he picked a simple long sleeved t-shirt and an old bomber jacket, paired with jeans and sturdy boots. They had agreed to meet outside the clinic and Shiro settled on the front step to wait.

The day was clear and chilly, the autumn sun shining brilliantly through crystal air. Drawing deep breaths, Shiro marvelled at how clean it felt. He could smell dry leaves, sunshine on asphalt and something sharply brisk, like he imagined air in the mountains must be like. 

The good feeling compounded when Keith turned the corner, two to go cups in hand and Kosmo at his feet. When the dog spotted him, he made a beeline for him and only managed to slow down marginally before he slammed into Shiro in an exuberant greeting. 

His owner’s greeting was a nod and one word, “Coffee?”

“Thanks.”

Keith pulled some packets of milk and sugar out of his pocket in question and sheepishly, Shiro poured three packets of sugar into his black coffee. 

They set off down the street and Keith pointed out buildings to him. Initially, he could have read his way himself to figure out that “Post Office” was the post office, and “Tea O’Clock” was a cafe. But he enjoyed walking next to Keith far too much to mention it. Where the high street began giving way to residential houses, the tour got more interesting to Shiro. Apparently trying to add something to the quiet, Keith pointed out the street where he’d learned to ride a bike. The corner where he’d fallen off the bike a minute later. A tree his friend had fallen out of once, a shed they’d been convinced was haunted. Though offered in short, clipped sentences, Shiro enjoyed the insight into a younger Keith. He sounded like a curious, adventurous boy. It had to be different to be in a small town, allowed to roam with your friends outside your own block.

They walked past the school, a functional brick building with some high schoolers trying desperately to look bored outside while some kids climbed shrieking over the jungle gym.

“Did you go here?”

Keith barely glanced at the building but nodded.

Shiro got the feeling Keith didn’t particularly want to relive high school memories. 

They turned the corner and were on a parallel street to the one the vet clinic was on. It was another of the central streets, and it had the town hall with its small patch of grass out front. Next door was the police station, fire station proudly hosting one fire engine, and the GP’s office. More shops lined the other side and the whole ground floor of a building was taken up by a diner.

“Hunk, who owns the Yellow Bar, his family owns the Diner. It has the best coffee in Altea.”

“This is from there?” Shiro gestured with his cup.

“Yeah.”

“It is good.”

Keith hadn’t lied, it was strong but not bitter and with just a hint of chocolate. Shiro made a mental note to go there and try the breakfast. He sent a glance sideways. He’d really love to ask Keith if he wanted to come along but it once again seemed to fall a bit close to the “date” category. 

The other sights passed quickly and suddenly they’d walked to the edge of the town.

“We’ve passed the town limits but there’s a nice view from up there if you’re up for the walk?”

Shiro would have done worse than walk on a sunny morning to spend longer with the young mechanic so he agreed readily.

Once they were out of town, Keith seemed to straighten and grow with every step. His steps got surer, his posture losing some slouch. Even his face seemed less set. Kosmo appeared used to the surroundings and zoomed around, sniffing at trees, leaves and trails the humans had no way to follow. 

“What made you decide to become a vet?”

It was one of the first questions Keith had asked about him and glad he’d initiated the conversation, Shiro replied.

“Well, the easy answer is that I’ve always loved animals.” Most people were content with that but Keith just waited, eyes on the path ahead. “But more I guess it’s...I could never stand to see anything weaker or more defenseless hurting.”

“Defenseless?” Keith asked and jerked his chin in the direction of Kosmo, who was standing on his hindlegs, scenting for a squirrel who had scampered up and now sat teasingly out of reach. Stretched out, the dog was almost as tall as Keith. His deep barks rung out across the path.

“They are. A dog can’t operate on a tumour or tell you where it hurts. You have to take care of them and it’s your job to notice anything out of the ordinary. My job is to find out what it is. I can’t stand to think of any animal suffering and the easiest way to deal with that seemed to be to become a vet. My ex called it my hero complex.”

“Anyone’s lucky to have a job they’re passionate about. It sounds like you are.”

Shiro blinked. Keith had so easily read between the lines, understood that while it made him keep odd hours, have little to no holidays, and a constant need to be contactable, he loved it and couldn’t picture another career. Adam had never understood. Maybe because he wasn’t passionate about his own job, teaching high school maths. A job he had admitted to taking because he liked the long holidays from it.

“Are you? Passionate about your job?”

Keith looked as if no one had ever asked him about passion in his life, eyebrows knitting. 

“Well, yeah. Not like you, maybe but I love my job. It’s…” He trailed off and Shiro adopted Keith’s earlier technique and waited.

The path was steepening and Keith took large strides, his long legs easily carrying him up the hill. Shiro kept pace, muscles warming and loosening and he was thoroughly enjoying the feeling. Sun on his back, wind on his face, moving at a pace that had him warm enough despite the light jacket.

“I like looking for answers. You find out why something’s broken and then you fix it. And I like seeing things that weren’t working work again.”

“So you’re like a detective. A car detective.”

Keith’s head snapped sideways, his eyes narrowing. Shiro smiled and Keith’s shoulders relaxed. Surprised, Shiro realized the younger man had thought he was making fun of him. 

A few moments passed, then Keith’s frown slowly changed. “A car detective.” 

He shook his head and Shiro was glad they’d stopped because he couldn’t quite believe his eyes when a smile began tugging at the mechanic’s lips. It spread slowly, like the sun rising over his features, and it transformed it. Shiro could understand saving it for special occasions when it was so showstoppingly radiant. It wasn’t a wide smile, or a grin, nothing so easy. It was the slow lifting of one corner of his mouth, mirrored even slower on the other side and it turned everything inside him on its head. Like a kaleidoscope turning the features, already beautiful, the same pieces shifted into something different and new. Something that took his breath away. 

His eyes dropped to the ground and Shiro was glad because he didn’t think he could stop himself staring. 

Then with a snort, Keith pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and set off again. Feeling victorious, Shiro hurried his steps to catch up. 

The view, as promised, was stunning. The mountains stretched on either side, cradling Altea in their grasp. The sky was an unbelievable blue and the trees were starting to turn into their warmer hues. 

“It’s beautiful here,” Shiro breathed.

Keith, from behind him, agreed. “It is. I like to come up here at least a few times a month. Walking the trails takes a bit more prep.”

“You hike?”

“Pretty much everyone around here hikes.”

“I’ve never been.”

“You’ve never been hiking?” Keith sounded incredulous.

“City kid, remember? No, but I’d love to try it now that I’m here.”

“I could…” Keith was staring hard at a rock to the left. “I could take you, if you want.”

“I’d love that.” Shiro’s mind happily composed a montage of Keith and him in front of a campfire, looking out over stunning views, sharing a small, cozy tent.

“You could...You could bring Allura, if you like.”

Shiro’s heart sank like a balloon pricked by a needle. Sank to deflate slowly and crumple. 

He’d been in the position before where men befriended him to get to Allura. And now it seemed it had happened again. He’d been so busy weaving day dreams about the mechanic, he hadn’t even noticed. Too busy planning his own potential future happiness to consider maybe he wasn’t the biggest problem to the plan, but his best friend was.

“Oh. Yeah.” He cleared his throat, the good feeling of the morning suddenly gone. 

The walk back was quieter and when they reached the clinic, the sun was high in the sky. Eager to get away and lick his wounds in peace, Shiro still knew courtesy, at the very least, demanded he invited Keith to the opening party most of the business owners in town were invited to.

“We’re...We’re having an opening party next week and we’re inviting all the business owners and some people we’ve met already. You should come.”

“Ah...I don’t own the shop. It’s my uncle’s.”

“Well, you can ask him too.”

“I’m not much for parties.”

“Okay.”

Shiro was staring one way up the street and Keith was staring down but he could still see him shrug in the corner of his eye.

“But maybe I’ll swing by.”

“Right. I’ll...I’ll see you around, then.”

“Yeah. See you.”

With that, Shiro headed into clinic, closed the door quietly, locked it. Gave Keith a last glance through the glass door and then went through the door that lead to the apartment upstairs. He hoped Allura was home.

**  
  
**

o.O.o

****  
  


Keith slammed the door to his car closed with unnecessary force and stalked into his house. He couldn’t tell exactly when the mood had turned, but he could tell it had and he wasn’t sure why. Frustrated that it was so hard for him to figure out what was the right thing to say, to clue in when a mood shifted, he was playing back the morning to himself.

He’d been nervous, like they were going on a date when it was just a tour around the town perimeter, but Shiro had seemed to enjoy seeing the post stamp size town “sights”. He’d drunk the coffee Keith had brought and though it was stupid, he felt happy knowing how the other man took it. Black with three sugars. Until then it was the most intimate thing he knew about him. The idea that such a tall, strong man had a sweet tooth was adorable and Keith had tucked away the information like it was a treasure, adding it to his hoard. 

It had been strange, he’d never been quick to warm up to strangers but everything with Shiro was different. It felt comfortable walking next to him, and he didn’t seem to mind the long silences when Keith couldn’t find words enough to fill them. He was good at listening and wasn’t interrupting constantly with questions to get to the point faster. Keith couldn’t remember a time where he’d been comfortable with someone he didn’t know. 

Getting out of town, the sensation of peace that he usually only felt when he was walking alone settled over him. Surprising himself, he’d felt calm enough to ask Shiro why he had wanted to become a veterinarian. He’d answered honestly and Keith had felt honored at the trust. Whoever Shiro’s ex was she couldn’t have really understood him very well. It made something in Keith lift and hope to hear the biggest motivation for the older man was to care for and defend those who were less able to.

It had made him choose his words carefully about his own job, wanting to convey that he did love it. And for a moment he’d thought that brittle bond they were forging was breaking, that Shiro was making fun of him and the wording that the other man probably found childish. But it had turned out to be a joke, not at his expense but to share the understanding. Shiro had understood that there was a treasure hunt element to his job, picked out the meaning from among Keith’s ramble. It had felt like he’d been speaking a foreign language for years and now he was finally allowed to speak his native tongue, finding someone who understood him effortlessly.

It was sometime after that the mood had turned. He could tell it had, but not exactly when. Shiro had grown quieter, smiling less, seeming deep in thought. Keith, who often liked silence too, had left him to it. But the silence walking back was different to the silences they’d shared walking up the path. Maybe the reality of going for a romantic camping trip with an awkward, prickly third wheel had sunk in and he was considering how to get out of it. Or worse, he’d sensed the intention behind Keith’s invitation, that he wanted to spend more time with Shiro, and had decided to pull back a bit. Signal he was taken in a kinder, nonverbal way. 

As if Keith could forget. It popped into his head every time he found a new facet of the man to like. Which, if this morning was anything to go by, was going to be All The Time.

Heading through the sitting room, towards the kitchen, he found someone already there. His mom looked up from the pot she was stirring. Keith’s stomach sank. Krolia Kogane was many things in life, but she was not a cook. His father had tried numerous times to teach her but had eventually given up, claiming some people had a black thumb when it came to gardening - his wife had a black thumb when it came to cooking. Anything that could go wrong, usually did. Her creations could be burned on the surface, raw in the middle. She’d once set a pot of spaghetti on fire. 

Warily, he edged closer to see she was attempting to make cookies. In all likelihood because his father had banned her from his kitchen after a few failed batches. But Krolia was nothing if not persistent so she had brought supplies to his house and started there. He sighed internally and resigned himself to eating something she’d call a cookie which would either be a lump of coal or an inexplicably salty piece of dough. It wasn’t as if his day was going very well anyway.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Mom.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her head, breathing in the scent of her no nonsense clean shampoo.

“I heard you were showing Dr Shirogane around this morning.”

He’d lived in Altea for too long to be even vaguely surprised she had already heard.

“Yeah. Took him up the Sneddon Trail after, looked at the view.”

“Oh.” She didn’t say anything but he could see the wheels turning in her head. After all, he’d never volunteered to act welcome committee to anyone new in town before. In fact, he had never volunteered to interact with anyone ever, really. The friends he had, he’d made because they had simply taken him in. “I hear he’s good looking.”

Keith pulled a bottle of water from his fridge before leaning against the countertop.

“Do you?”

“Don’t be a spoilsport. Is he?”

Keith drank deep to ease his throat. He needed a moment to formulate an answer that was PG enough to share with his mother. Despite their very close relationship, he doubted she’d like to hear any finer details of the dreams he’d spun around various aspects of Shiro’s body already. Looking through the window in the living room, seeing Kosmo chase his own tail in the yard, he kept it simple.

“He is.”

Krolia looked happy at this, attacking her batter with renewed fervour. Keith was sure he’d find cookie mix in unexpected places for months.

“And is he nice?”

For once Keith didn’t need time to think about his response. “Yeah.”

“I see.” Krolia looked even happier as she stirred the dough. 

He would have loved to let her keep her illusions, probably already buying china for him and Shiro in her head. 

“He’s got a girlfriend, Mom.”

“Oh.” She deflated a little. After a moment, she’d bid her future son-in-law goodbye. “Well, it’s still nice to have an addition to the pretty scenery around here.”

He chuckled. His mom had a way of putting things. 

“True.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fixing it, don't worry. They won't be idiots for long. Well, they will, but they'll be idiots in love!


	4. Chapter 4

He walked up the stairs to find Allura rushing from her hall, to her bedroom, to her bathroom, dressed in only a balconette bra, panties and heels. 

“Shiro! Help me pick a dress, I’m going mad. I’ve only managed to put make-up on one eye, I need to finish my hair and I can’t pick a dress.”

Chuckling, he ventured into the bedroom to find most of Allura’s wardrobe heaped on the bed. 

“So what are you choosing between?”

“The burgundy or the black!” Came the reply from the bathroom. “Or the navy with the gold details.”

He spotted the dresses she’d mentioned and looked at them. To him, they all looked like the same dress in different colours. Though one had sleeves. He plucked the middle one from the bed and called,

“I think the burgundy.”

In fact, he had no opinion but that was all part of the process. Allura already knew which one she wanted to wear and whatever he chose would inform the choice she’d already made.

His business partner came rushing back in.

“I agree. It’s less formal, and the length is appropriate without being dowdy.”

Shiro nodded dutifully and helped her zip it while she hooked gold earrings into her earlobes. Twirling around, she held out her arms.

“You look great,” he confirmed. She always did, lucky genes ran in her family. Whether she dressed up or wore scrubs and no makeup, she looked great.

“So do you. I do love that shirt.”

He’d opted for slacks and a shirt but no jacket or tie. As Allura had said, it wasn’t really a formal event. The shirt was a light blue, and in allowance for a room that promised to get hot very fast, he’d left the top two buttons undone.

“Thanks.” 

Filled with nervous energy, he watched as his friend tottered around in her heels, putting the last bits of herself together. He hadn’t seen Keith since their morning tour of the town a week ago and he wasn’t altogether sure he’d turn up tonight. He’d been berating himself for the way he’d left it, knowing he had attached a lot of expectations to Keith that the other man had never encouraged. It wasn’t the mechanic’s fault he was straight and appreciated that Shiro’s friend was gorgeous. It wasn’t his fault Shiro had taken one look at him and built up all sorts of dream scenarios in his head. If wasn’t his fault he was the most beautiful man Shiro had ever laid eyes on either.

It was just...life.

Allura had insisted he’d read the situation wrong and that she’d seen Keith at a distance once or twice and that he’d never paid her any mind besides a nod in greeting. Shiro hadn’t mentioned that from what he’d seen of Keith, he was a lot shyer than he looked and that he maybe hadn’t dared to do more. That was where Shiro would come in. He’d pave the way, play third wheel to make the initial road was smoother. He knew the play, had been there before. 

Normally he’d be happy to, if his friend had liked him, but this time he wasn’t sure. Keith was different, and not just because he looked like a montage of every fevered dream Shiro had ever orchestrated in his mind. There was something about him that tugged on a deeper level than attraction. 

“Okay, I’m done. Let’s go.”

Together they descended the stairs into the clinic and surveyed the results of their earlier prep. It still looked like a waiting room but they’d put up a table for food, one for drinks, and some balloons and fairy lights offered some cheer. 

Allura poured them both some fizz and they toasted. 

“Let’s win some customers, partner.”

Two hours later the room was full. Shiro’s voice was already getting hoarse from speaking over the din but he was having a surprisingly good time. Everyone was welcoming and happy, all promising to bring their pets by as soon as they had opened officially. 

Shiro had spoken to most of the business owners along the main street, including the man who owned the bar, Hunk. Hunk had introduced him to his friend, a petite woman in large glasses with short honey blonde, tumbling hair. Apparently no one called her anything but Pidge.

“...so I’ll bring Socrates by week after next then.”

Socrates was Pidge’s gecko. Apparently he’d been eating less than normal and seemed sluggish. 

“I look forward to meeting him.”

The door opened and he saw a large man step in, greeting several people at once. Behind him, Keith appeared. He was dressed in a fitted white shirt, the sleeves already rolled up to the elbow. His hair was tied back again, and he looked supremely uncomfortable. But he was there.

Shiro became aware Pidge had been speaking to him and he blinked.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said,” she crossed her arms and reminded him of a disgruntled garden gnome, “where is your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend, wife, fiance, I’m not sure which.”

“I…” he tried to get his brain to work while surreptitiously watching Keith’s progress through the room. “Do you mean my business partner? Allura?”

“Business partner. As in only for business? You’re single?”

For a frightening moment he wondered if Pidge was going to ask him out. To be honest, despite her stature she intimidated him.

“Yes.”

“Oh.” She tilted her head. “Have you met my friend Keith?”

Before he had a chance to respond, she’d turned her head and called for the mechanic. Reluctantly, he ambled over.

“Hey,” he greeted Shiro, eyes still not quite meeting his.

“Hey, Keith,” Shiro returned. 

Realizing Pidge had probably been asking for Keith and had just found out Allura was single, he was sure the next part of the conversation would include some contrived reason for why she had to come over. His heart sank.

“Shiro and I were just lamenting our singlehood,” Pidge said and he searched his memory for when that had happened. “Maybe you’d like to chip in. Oh, look, crudites! I do love crudites. I’m going to go have some before my brother eats them all. Bye.”

Confused about what had just happened, Shiro looked after the small woman.

“She...she does that sometimes,” Keith spoke and gestured to the retreating back of his friend.

“I don’t remember lamenting being single. What does lamenting even mean?”

Keith shook his head and gave a one-shouldered shrug.

“But...but you are?”

“Single? Yeah. Apparently Pidge thought I was together with Allura.” He shook his head at the idea. 

“Oh.”

“My last relationship ended three years ago.”

“Why?” Keith’s eyes widened just after he’d uttered the word. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I...I don’t want to pry and it’s none of my business.”

He looked so appalled at himself Shiro gave him a soothing smile.

“It’s okay. I...I was going through some stuff and it...I guess it got a bit much for him.”

Keith’s head snapped around as his gaze found his. Something he couldn’t read smoldered in the deep blue gaze.

“Shiro, could you come over here for a moment?” Allura called from behind him.

“Oh, it’s time for The Speech.” He rolled his eyes. “I’ll have to take care of my duties for a minute.”

Keith nodded and Shiro followed Allura to the end of the room. From his position he could see Keith drawing back, before disappearing into the hallway to the examination rooms. Confused, Shiro wondered what on earth he wanted to do back there. Then Allura handed over the speech to him and he had to focus on the smiling faces in front of him. 

The second he could, he excused himself from the well wishers and slipped down the hallway where Keith had disappeared. Peeking into the exam rooms on the way, he found the mechanic in the last one. He entered, finding him sitting on the examination table, staring at his hands, loosely folded between his knees. The room was dark, and several degrees cooler than the party. 

“Are you okay?”

Keith looked up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m just not much for crowds.”

“It’s pretty stifling in there.” He couldn’t think of any reason why Keith would want him to stay when he was taking a break from people. “Well, you can stay in here as long as you like. I’ll see you later?” 

He had turned towards the door when Keith spoke.

“Wait.”

With his hand on the door handle, Shiro turned his head back. “Yeah?”

Keith looked younger in the half dusk, more vulnerable than usual out of his normal beaten up t-shirt look. The white shirt highlighted how slim his neck was, how dark his hair. A leather bracelet circled one of his wrists and he was picking at it now. His eyes were fastened on something on the floor, his hair falling down around his face, shielding it.

He didn’t speak, just kept staring at that spot. Trying to keep his feelings tamped back, Shiro spoke.

“Listen, if this is about Allura then...If you like her, just tell her. She’s not one of those women who’s into playing games or whatever.”

He was about to leave, and take a minute or two in the hall to collect himself. Say goodbye to something that never was and never would be. Keith voice interrupted the plan, sliding almost into falsetto on,

“What?”

“If you like her, Keith, you should just tell her so.”

He heard the slide of fabric when Keith slipped off the examination table.

“Shiro, I’m gay.” His voice was even, clear. “Allura seems really nice but I could never like her that way.”

Everything inside Shiro did a one-eighty and left him feeling dizzy and disoriented. He turned fully again to see Keith standing behind him, fidgeting. He was still staring down at the floor, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. One hand was wrapped around his elbow, the other hanging limp. The way you stood when you braced yourself for something. 

“I…”

Keith picked up again, staring away to the floor in the corner to the side. 

“I’m not very good at...words, or feelings and stuff but I…” His eyebrows knitted and he chewed his bottom lip. Nothing seemed to come to him and Shiro thought he heard him swear under his breath before he dropped his arm, looked up, stepped close and stood on his toes to capture Shiro’s lips with his. It was just a quick burst of pressure, of warmth, then it was over. 

“So...now you know.”

With that Keith ducked past him, and was gone before Shiro’s brain had the fortitude to catch up. Had the man who hadn’t left his thoughts for two weeks just kissed him? He was pretty sure he had, but he also knew it had played out a lot like numerous daydreams he’d harboured over the last few days. 

Just to be sure, he pinched himself. It hurt. Delighted, he rubbed the sore spot. 

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

Keith was swearing to himself as he tried to pry the transmission belt out of a Prius. Kolivan had gotten to the radio first this morning and Sam Cooke was crooning about someone always being on his mind, the base rolling out over the lot. Keith could relate.  


Last night Pidge had texted him relentlessly until he’d agreed to go to the clinic’s opening party. A few seconds after he’d arrived, she’d called him and left any subterfuge in her wake as she pretty much straight up told him Shiro was single. It had felt like a ton of bricks falling on him at first, as the words sunk in. Then the bricks had fallen away. He wasn’t taken. 

A minute later the next bomb had gone off. Shiro had talked about his ex and had definitely called the ex a “him”. Keith didn’t really believe in luck but that one short conversation was probably the best news he’d ever heard. 

When Allura had called him away, Keith was still reeling. Feeling the crowd press closer to hear the speeches, he’d ducked away. As he walked through the dim hallway, the joy had started to sink into the backseat. Familiar self doubts took over the wheel. So what if Shiro was single? So what if he liked guys? What was Keith doing pretending he had anything to offer a man like Shiro? 

Thoughts spiralling downwards, he’d found a quiet place to sit, fighting the shadows that reached for him with their slippery fingers. The familiar outlines of the same old doubts that had always followed him. Whispering he wasn’t enough, would never be enough. He was too awkward, too distant, too hard for people to understand. 

Shiro had appeared in the middle of the tirade, his voice soft when he asked if Keith was all right. He’d noticed him leaving. Had come to check on him. He’d been about to leave again when the words Keith wanted to say just crowded unsaid in the air around him. 

Without being able to look at him, he’d managed to get him to wait. Shiro had rambled something about Allura, and it had taken Keith a moment to catch his meaning. How was there any way Shiro hadn’t  _ seen _ , didn’t  _ know _ ?

As always the words lined up in his head, shifted places, slid out of reach. The connection from his brain to his tongue was a traffic jam of everything he wanted to convey and nothing made it past the bottle neck. Frustrated he’d thrown words to the wind, closed the distance and kissed Shiro. Hoping what he felt was present in the brief press of lips, he’d then turned and ran. 

Through the night he had replayed the scene in his head. All he’d had time to see on Shiro’s face before he left was shock. In the cold light of day Keith wished he’d opted for the words. What kind of freak went from sullenly saying nothing to kissing? Then he hadn’t let Shiro respond, whether he wanted to berate him or...He swallowed heavily at that thought. Or. 

“Keith?”

Keith almost hit his head on the hood of the Prius when Shiro spoke behind him. Whirling around, he spotted the vet standing with his hands in his pockets, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Shiro!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

“No..I...I just wasn’t…” He trailed off.

“I…” Shiro looked hesitant. “I… came to finish our conversation from last night.”

“Oh.” Finish the conversation? That sounded a lot like “don’t you know it’s rude to launch yourself on other people and also, I’m sorry but I don’t see you that way” was coming. Keith tightened his hold on the wrench he was still holding. 

“You didn’t let me reply and...I wanted to say that…”

Shiro gave him a hesitant look, seemed to draw a deep breath. Then he crossed the space between them in two long steps, pulled Keith close and kissed him. It was just as brief as the kiss from the night before and in a moment it was over. 

The wrench clattered to the ground.

Shiro stepped back, rubbing his hand over his neck.

“So...now you know,” he said with a smile and then he turned and left.

Keith could only stand rooted to the spot, staring after him. Had this really just happened? Had his tired brain just made up that the most gorgeous man on planet Earth had just walked up to him at work and kissed him before repeating his own words back to him?

His uncle walked past and if the amusement in his voice when he greeted him was any indication, it actually had happened.

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

Keith had debated with himself back and forth for the last 48 hours as to how he would respond to Shiro, what he would say. He was convinced what he’d come up with was stupid, but if he had to come up with something that wasn’t he might be collecting social security before it materialised. And that would be pretty stupid.

So when he entered Ezor’s florist shop - Petal to the Metal - he looked around. If small towns did anything, it was talk and Keith wasn’t sure he was ready to have Altea talk about him and Shiro. Relieved to see the shop was empty, he approached the counter.

He’d only been in the shop a few times, usually for flowers for his mom on Mother’s Day. It was full to the brim with a lot of flowers he’d never seen and couldn’t name. 

“Keith,” Ezor greeted him, appearing from behind the counter. Her long hair was in a sleek tail and she was wearing a green apron with the shop’s logo over her clothes. “Is it Mother’s Day already?”

She said it with a glint in her eyes. 

Despite knowing he wanted to get out of the shop as soon as possible before anyone saw him, he knew enough of what was expected of him to ask,

“How are you? How’s Zethrid?”

Zethrid was Ezor’s wife and she mostly kept to the back of the business, dealing with deliveries and shipments. They’d both moved to Altea from Galra a few years ago, setting up their business. 

“We’re good, thanks. Zethrid is thinking about getting a new car for the business, she has her eye on that second hand pickup in Kolivan’s lot.”

“It’s a good car, less than two thousand miles on the clock.”

“I’ll tell her, but I’m sure she’ll come in and haggle over the price all the same. How can I help you today?”

As Kolivan enjoyed that part of the business, Keith was happy to leave him to it. 

“I…” He tried to remember the speech he’d memorized. “I need some flowers.”

Ezor didn’t laugh at this, just waited. “For...for someone finishing their first day at a new job.”

Ezor’s eyes lit up. “So something to say congratulations and job well done?”

He knew this part of the procedure. Ezor read meaning into all sorts of things he didn’t get. The last time he’d been in there for Mother’s Day she’d made a bouquet and told him things like “verbena for devotion”, “dahlias for laughter” and “let’s add some myrtle for a giggle”. Keith had liked the colours and Krolia had been happy, putting them out on the dining table. 

“Yeah.” He debated with himself. Ezor wasn’t from Altea but he liked her. “And...and that you want to get to know that someone better.”

Ezor’s smile took on a cat-who-caught-the-canary tint. “You got it.”

She zoomed around the shop, adding things to a growing pile in her arms. Returning to the counter she rearranged the flowers in minutes from a pile into a bouquet. 

“It’s seasonal, and I think it absolutely conveys you’d like to get to know the recipient a bit better!”

Fall leaves mixed with the bright flowers and Keith sighed internally in relief. It didn’t look overtly romantic. The flowers looked colourful, friendly. 

“It looks great, Ezor, thanks.”

He paid and picked the flowers up. He’d gotten to the door when the florist called “Good luck!” behind him. Hunching his shoulders, he muttered a thanks. Apparently it hadn’t been quite as secret as he’d hoped that the flowers were meant for asking someone out. Staring accusingly at them, he debated taking them to his mom and forgetting all about a certain veterinarian.  


**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
  
**

Shiro spotted Keith’s car through the window where he was sitting in the reception filing charts after his first official day on the job. It had been packed back to back with appointments and he’d seen several dogs, cats, two guinea pigs, an actual pig and one parrot. Still in scrubs and tired in the way only a good day’s work could make him, he felt his heart lift and flutter at the sight of the beaten up truck. Watching Keith park and jump out, he relished the wave of heat that zinged through him at the sight of worn flannel and denim, sturdy boots and a dark ponytail. Keith reached into the car for something and pulled out a bouquet of fall flowers and leaves. Shiro’s heart knocked insistently against his rib cage. Were those…?

In the street Keith had gotten halfway to the clinic door when he turned back. He made it a few steps towards his car and then shook his head. Turned towards the vet clinic again. Stopped. Stared accusingly at the flowers for a moment.

In the end his mind was made up by another car rolling down the street, forcing him towards the closest sidewalk. Looking a bit crestfallen at this development, Keith hesitated again. Finally he set his jaw and jogged up the steps to the clinic. Quickly Shiro pretended he’d been engrossed in the papers on his desk.

The bell over the door rung and he looked up.

“Keith,” he greeted, a smile he had no control over spreading over his features.

“Hey.” The younger man hovered at the end of the waiting room. “I...I brought these as...I don’t know, for finishing your first day?” He sounded like he was asking. And his face looked like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just said.

Shiro’s heart moved on from knocking to melting. Getting up from the desk he crossed the room and accepted the flowers. 

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

“Good. Yeah.” Keith, now without anything to occupy his hands pushed them into his pockets. 

Shiro fought the urge to bury his face in the flowers and inhale. There was admitting you liked someone and then there was behaving like some lovesick fourteen-year-old. Smiling down at the flowers he felt certainty envelop him. It was years since he’d done this but a part of who he’d been once slid back in place when he said,

“Keith, will you go on a date with me?”

The mechanic blinked in surprise but then he nodded with emphasis. 

“Friday?”

“Y...Yeah.”

“You know the town best, where do you want to go?”

The second smile Keith gave him was completely different than the first. It was wider, more open and - Shiro wondered for a split second if he’d need to sit down - flirty. Tossing his fringe out of his eyes, a vague blush spreading on his cheeks, Keith answered,

“How about my place?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a visual this chapter was written by me pretty much pushing these two idiots together and shouting "NOW KISS" like I'm orchestrating a Barbie doll play.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome all! This chapter contains mention and description of a car accident and PTSD related to it, so please be aware and take care of yourselves.

Shiro didn’t know how many panicked texts he’d sent to Allura, but it was enough that she’d eventually called him and just stayed on the line while he got dressed and walked to Keith’s house. With her last words “ _ Good luck! _ ” in his head, he climbed the porch steps.

The house itself was small, a little more than a two storey log-cabin but it had a fantastic location, tucked away from the road among the trees so no one could really see it unless they stumbled on it. Around the house the trees had been cleared to give way for a lawn. Someone had planted flowers that were just giving their last performance before fall really took hold. The trees were all wearing reds, oranges and yellows and showed off in the last sun of the evening. 

The feeling of the surroundings was serene. Shiro could see why Keith liked it. 

Knocking, he heard shuffling on the other side of the door, Keith’s voice as he said something. He realized the other man was talking to Kosmo. 

The door opened and the big dog shot past, just giving his hand a lick in passing, something much more exciting clearly hiding in the trees. Keith stood, framed by the light inside, hand on the door handle. 

“I’m underdressed,” he blurted and looked at Shiro’s gray button down. “I’ll go change.”

He actually turned in the door, but Shiro stopped him by taking his wrist, holding him back. “No, don’t. You look great.” He dropped his hold and Keith turned. “Really...great.”

It was no lie. The open flannel shirt over a black t-shirt, sleeves rolled up and black jeans were all working really well for Shiro. 

Really. Well. 

“We’re at your house, I shouldn’t have worn this,” he gestured to the Oxford shirt. “I’m overdressed.”

“I like it,” Keith said directly. “It looks good on you.”

Shiro felt his ears warm. It had been a really long time since anyone but Allura had complimented him on his appearance.

“Thank you.”

For a moment they just stood in the hall, before Shiro caught himself staring. Clearing his throat, he held out a bottle of wine. 

“I brought this. I don’t know if you drink wine but I didn’t want to bring flowers when you’d just brought some for me and then you’d think I couldn’t come up with anything myself and beer just felt a bit too casual to bring to a date and bringing food is weird when you’re invited over for dinner so I didn’t know what to do and Allura said wine and I said…” He stopped, taking in Keith’s wide eyes at the barrage of words. “So. Anyway, here.”

He thrusted the bottle at the mechanic who accepted it. 

“I...don’t think I’ve had wine since some high school party where it was the only thing we could get our hands on.”

Shiro chuckled. “Well, hopefully it’s better than gas-stations-that-won’t-card-you-wine. You don’t have to drink it, I just didn’t want to turn up empty handed.”

“That’s...nice of you. Thanks.”

“It’s weird,” Shiro decided. “I know it’s weird now. I just...I’ve been really nervous. Am really nervous,” he corrected.

“You’re nervous?” Keith’s gaze picked up something almost hopeful.

Shiro’s shoulders slumped in admission. “Yeah.” He sighed. “It’s...It’s been a while since I was on a date.”

“Looking like you do, I find that hard to believe.”

Shiro blinked. “Ah...not...not after this, and...this.” He gestured to his prosthetic arm and the scar across the bridge of his nose. 

Keith’s eyebrows rose, his eyes sliding from Shiro’s arm to his face, over the scar. Normally obvious staring made him uncomfortable but Keith’s scrutiny wasn’t gawkish or curious. It was...matter of fact. 

“People are stupid,” Keith shrugged.

It was such an off-hand comment, Shiro had to laugh. “They can be,” he agreed.

“For…” Keith looked away, his arm coming up to wrap around his elbow. “For what it’s worth, I think you look perfect.”

The blush spread from his ears to his cheeks this time.

Keith was such a dichotomy of seemingly opposed traits. He was quiet and reticent, but sweet and caring. Sometimes he didn’t speak for minutes at a time, and then when he got nervous a whole essay could jump out of him. He was honest and straight to the point, but sometimes something flirty appeared. It kept Shiro intrigued to find what his next answer would be, and it fascinated him he could so rarely guess it.

“You…” Keith continued. “You’re actually nervous about this?”

“Yeah.”

Keith mumbled something.

“Sorry?”

“I said,” he looked up to meet Shiro’s gaze. That he had to tip his head back to do it when they stood this close made Shiro’s stomach tense and tighten. “I’m glad I’m not the only one.”

“ _ You’re _ nervous?”

Keith bit his lip, gaze dropping again. Nodded. Slowly he reached out and took Shiro’s hand, lifted it. Placing it against his chest, Shiro could feel his heartbeat galloping under his hand.

With a smile, Shiro returned the wordless gesture, placing Keith’s hand over his heart. 

Keith’s gaze lifted to his, the deep blue filled in part with awe and part something else. It had been so long since anyone looked at him that way, Shiro couldn’t place the other part at first. It was want. Keith’s hand curled into his shirt, bunching the fabric. His eyes fell to the open collar of the shirt and Shiro could see him swallow. Willingly he followed the tug on his button down. Standing toe to toe, he reached up to tip Keith’s head back and watched for the wariness in his gaze. But he saw nothing uneasy. Slowly, Shiro dipped his head and Keith’s eyes fluttered close. His soft lips parted slightly, his warm breath fanning over his face and Shiro’s self control snapped. Capturing his lips, Shiro finally kissed him the way he’d been wanting to since the second he saw him. Hard, hungry and hot. 

**  
  
**

o.O.o

****  
  


Keith felt the kiss like a bomb had gone off in his head. It levelled everything with it. Thoughts, worries, doubts, it took everything with it and left an inferno of want. Heat spread through his veins from his heart until it was white-hot and blinding. Shiro groaned and the sound reverberated through Keith’s chest. Desperation scrabbled inside him, he couldn’t make his hands touch enough, couldn’t get enough. The body that had fuelled his dreams for weeks was pressed against him and every inch felt better than he could have ever imagined. Muscles corded taut in Shiro’s back when he ran his hands over it, his lips and tongue moved with mindbending certainty and his hair was so soft.

With a whimper, Keith pressed even closer and Shiro seemed to read his thoughts. With an ease that had his nervous system jumpstarting, the older man picked him up. Lifted him clear off the ground so Keith could sling his legs around his waist. With a thump they hit the wall and Keith hissed in a breath at the contact, now core to core. Keith, ravenous for more, for closer, for everything, bucked in his grasp. 

Shiro’s lips left his to trail down his jaw, his neck. Keith’s eyes wanted to roll back in his head.

“How…” His lips free, he just couldn’t help voicing the wonder. “How the hell are you...so hot? I can’t...I can’t catch my breath.”

Something like a purr reverberated through Shiro and he sucked a mark into the tender skin of Keith’s throat. His straining cock jumped and his back arched off the wall. As it just pressed harder into the firm body of Shiro trapping him in place it did nothing but spur him higher. His hips were jerking, his breaths rushing. He realized with shock he was already close. Close from making out for a few minutes. 

Knowing he wanted more than to come untouched in his jeans like some needy fourteen-year-old, Keith worked his hands between them, undoing the buttons in Shiro’s shirt. He’d really like to just rip it but it had looked nice. 

“W...Wait.” Shiro’s hand reached to stop him and Keith’s mind tumbled at the realization the wall and only one of Shiro’s arms held him up. Breathing ragged, he looked up. Maybe Shiro was more of a bedroom guy. “I...can we slow down?”

It was the opposite of what he’d expected, considering the response he’d gotten. But he let his hands fall.

“Uh...yeah. Sure.”

Shiro let him down gently, and Keith had to test his legs would actually carry him.

Arousal doused by the knowledge Shiro wasn’t as desperate as he had been, that he’d painted over his reaction with what he wanted it to be, curdled his blood. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Keith was studying the floorboards but he could hear it was sincere. “You don’t have to apologize, Shiro.” Especially not when he’d been the one to misread the signals. Again.

“No.” He hears Shiro speak again. “No, I can see you closing in on yourself. It’s me, Keith, I’m…”

Something in his voice had Keith forcing his gaze back up. “I’m not...whole.”

Keith waited, not sure he knew what he meant. “I...This,” he gestured between them. “It used to be easier. I’m different now, I… I have scars, and this thing,” he gestured to the prosthesis. “It’s...it’s been a long time since…”

Keith thought he could read between the lines for once and the answer astounded him. How could Shiro ever think he was anything less than perfect? Ashamed of the small part of him that was relieved it was nothing about him that had put Shiro off, except his neediness, he reached out. His fingers curled in the bottom of Shiro’s shirt. He was sure he looked like a child but he had to hold on to something, ground himself. The honesty in his words forced his eyes to somewhere around the tips of Shiro’s shoes as he allowed himself to be laid bare for once.

“You’re perfect.”

Shiro chuckled mirthlessly. “You should have seen me four years ago then.”

“No,” Keith shook his head. “You’re perfect now. Like this.” He looked up to see disbelief and such a warm kindness in Shiro’s eyes he almost wanted to cry. He hadn’t cried in years. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you.”

A breath shuddered out of Shiro, almost like a sob. His hand came to rest on the side of Keith’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb.

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you either,” he responded.

Despite his inner protests, the prodding slipped out, “You do? Want me?”

Shiro smiled now, a smile full of warmth. “More than anything. I almost forgot every single one of my demons and took you against that wall.”

This time it was Keith’s breath that caught. 

Shiro’s head cocked. He’d heard the reaction. His smile turned mischievous. “Oh, you like that idea?”

Wordlessly, Keith nodded jerkily. Liked it? He’d live for less reason. 

“We’ll get there,” Shiro breathed and leaned in. His breath fanned over Keith’s face. “I promise.”

“I’ll wait for you, Shiro. It doesn’t matter how long.”

This time the kiss was slower, deeper. Keith felt as if his soul was getting dragged from his soles to rise in his body. Sunshine streamed into places he hadn’t realized lay in shade.

When they parted, it was with a smile. 

“So, do you want to eat?”

Keith had made lasagne, one of the staples in his house as you could make a giant one and then not have to cook for days. It had been a trick he and his father had cultivated so the need for Krolia to make dinner would never occur. Shiro assured him the wine would go well with the pasta so he shrugged and poured two glasses of it. It seemed to amuse Shiro that the only glasses he had were short, stout tumblers. Keith decided not to mention he only had those because his mom had refused to drink all beverages from mugs, which was all he’d used to have until recently. 

He’d feared that once they were sat down, in a small space, Shiro would notice how bad Keith was at talking. There weren’t any distractions around, places to point at. But somehow, the conversation didn’t die down throughout the meal. Often Keith had been accused of having no interest in the other person, or in carrying on the conversation. In actuality he was never sure what was appropriate to say. He never knew if one question was intrusive, when another was considerate to ask. He had never felt as averse to silence as other people seemed and he didn’t mind if a conversation lapsed. In fact, it made him more comfortable than if he were talking or listening. But with Shiro, it was as if the muffler he normally wore had been turned off. He didn’t filter what he said, or weighed it on a minute scale for so long that the topic had long since shifted when he was finally ready to get the words out. And to his surprise, Shiro hadn’t fallen silent once, hadn’t looked uncomfortable or chided him for something that was impolite or awkward to say. If anything, he looked like he was enjoying himself. 

Keith found himself even liking the wine.

After the meal, they headed to the porch where blankets and space heaters kept the autumn chill away. Kosmo was racing around the lawn, sniffing everything despite having been over it several times that day already.

Silence had fallen between them but Keith couldn’t for the life of him see any signs that Shiro was uncomfortable with it. They just sat, content in silence, watching Kosmo.

“Adam was driving that day.” Shiro said it out of the blue and he tried to remember what the last topic of conversation had been. He thought it had been about squirrels and how their habit of nut caching sometimes resulted in a tree, apparently.

Now Shiro was staring at his glass, turning it. “We were on our way back from a dinner with friends. I think we were talking about getting tickets for a concert. Then it got dark.”

Shiro shifted in his seat and Keith almost held his breath. It was the reason for the scars and the prosthesis, he understood.

“I found out afterwards a drunk driver had rammed us. From my side.” He shook his head. “The whole side of the car was destroyed. When I came to, I could hear the firemen talking to me. There were sirens, radio chatter, voices.”

Shiro shivered and Keith quietly got to his feet and sat down next to him, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

“They explained that the car had vaulted, that I was stuck and they would have to saw me out. I hadn’t even realized I couldn’t move.”

The other man looked out over the trees, where the vague silhouette of Kosmo could sometimes be seen in the starlight.

“The side of the car had been smashed in too badly it was impossible for them to disentangle me from it. They told me...They told me the car was going to blow up and they had to get me out so they would need to...To take the arm off.”

Horror warred with a sickening empathy in Keith’s gut. He couldn’t imagine being told he would need to lose a limb to save his life. 

“So they did, and they managed to get me away. I only remember pieces from the ambulance and the hospital after. Adam, he...He got some cuts and bruises but he was fine. But every time he looked at me, he was somehow reminded he had been in the driver’s seat, that he’d been okay and I hadn’t.”

Keith didn’t need any of the social cues he’d learned to follow his own instinct and reach out to wrap an arm around Shiro’s shoulders. After a moment, he felt Shiro lean into him. He rubbed his hands over his face and Keith could hear his breaths shaking.

“It was the beginning of the end for us. He couldn’t cope with the guilt of it, it made him resentful. In the end he could barely stand to look at my body, see the results of that night. I got the new arm and he kept insisting I should give up work and “take care of myself” instead. He wanted me to turn into some invalid so he could spend his life taking care of me and soothe his guilt and I… and I...I can’t be someone’s charity case. I wanted someone who wanted me for me, not someone who could barely stand to look at me and stayed out of some sense of duty.”

Keith could easily follow the thread that ran from “couldn’t stand to look at me” to the reason he’d stopped where they had been heading earlier in the night. Anger against someone who was meant to be Shiro’s sole support but had used him as the crutch instead rolled inside him. The unfairness of the situation, of one moment in the wrong place at the wrong time that had upended Shiro’s life. 

“I’ve spent the last three years trying to build myself up again, to be able to do everything I could before the accident but I...I’m different. I still have nightmares about it, sometimes when I hear a car approach I get dizzy. I had to sell my motorbike when I couldn’t ride it anymore. The...car, that car I brought you, it’s been mine since high school. It’s the only car I can drive now, the only one I feel safe enough in.”

Keith damned every last thought he’d had about encouraging Shiro to turn the car into scrap. Vowing to make the thing better than it had been new, he leaned his chin on top of Shiro’s head.

“So...that’s my sob story.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Sorry?”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make light of it.”

“It’s a bit heavy for a first date, I didn’t mean to...I didn’t intend to-”

“I’m happy you told me. I’m glad you could do that. And there’s nowhere I’d rather be right now than right here.”

Shiro let out a long breath. “Okay. That...that means a lot to me.”

Repositioning them so Shiro was stretched over the seat, his head resting on Keith’s lap, he chose on impulse to do what his mom had used to do to him when he was little and began running his hands through Shiro’s hair. Slowly, he felt some of the tension drain from Shiro’s body.

It was Shiro who had picked up the conversation again, much later, when his eyes were adorably sleepy. It had been like following a winding trail, easy topics turning into easy jokes until most of the shadows were out of Shiro’s gaze again.

Saying goodbye, Keith offered to walk Shiro home.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, but maybe I’d like to walk you,” he said, leaning on the door jamb.

“You have an early morning tomorrow, you told me. Besides, I’d like to kiss you goodnight now.”

He didn’t have to ask Keith twice and he was sure his eyes looked pretty hazy by the time Shiro stepped back.

“This was...the best date I’ve ever had.”

“Me too,” Keith agreed. He’d never met anyone as easy for him to talk to as Shiro. And the whole package of a kind, caring, smart, funny man wrapped up in a body made of dreams seemed too good to be true.

“So, I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty small place.”

At that Shiro smiled and stepped back. Turning to walk away, Keith’s doubts rose to bother him again. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he didn’t check, he called out.

“Shiro, wait!”

The taller man turned back. Keith hurried down the steps. In the cold night abd the heat from Shiro’s body was palpable against his.

“I...What are we?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean...I’ve never been good at this. I never know if you’re meant to know something, or how you know it and people just...do and I don’t know how. Everyone just seems to know when in a relationship they can do what and I just…don’t.” He ran a hand through his hair, aware of how incredible uncool that had sounded.

The skin around Shiro’s eyes creased with his smile but Keith didn’t get the impression it was because he was laughing at him.

“I’d say we’re dating. It’s a bit early for “boyfriend” but we’ll be going on a second date, right?”

“Yeah.” If Shiro wanted to see him again, an eight hundred horsepower engine couldn’t keep him away.

“So, we’re dating.”

“So if I see you in town I…”

Shiro tilted his head, working out what the rest of the sentence would be. “I’d hope you’d want to kiss me. But I’m not sure how you are with PDA, so…”

“I’m fine with it.” Though he never had been before. But if it were Shiro...Just the thought of Shiro greeting him with a kiss if they ran into each other made his heart do somersaults. 

“Good,” Shiro smiled. He caressed Keith’s cheek again in a way he was quickly becoming addicted to. “Anything else you worry about?”

“No,” Keith found to his surprise that was true.

“Goodnight then, baby.” Shiro just lightly brushed his lips over Keith’s but he was too busy absorbing the endearment to fully register it. The small, innocent word that he would have ordinarily fought tooth and nail against made something purr inside him. Thoughts blanked before promptly heading into decidedly dirty. 

Watching Shiro walk down the drive, he let out a long, long breath.

“Holy fuck.”

It was the only expression that seemed to come to mind when he watched Shiro walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tee hee, we're starting to earn that rating, folks! I hope you enjoyed ;D


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Updates should be regular-ish again now that the festive season is over. To make up for the wait, this chapter is extra long :)

Shiro appeared in the clinic the next day in an excellent mood. Allura was standing, yawning, by the coffee maker. He knew she’d had at least two espressos from her little fancy machine in her apartment but that would only put a slight dent in Morning Allura. 

“Brought you something,” Shiro said and waved the to go cups and box. 

Allura turned. “You’re a vision,” she joked. 

He handed her the coffee and flipped the lid of the Diner take out box. The donuts inside had made him hurry his steps from the Diner to the clinic by their smell alone. Allura picked a pink icing and Shiro nabbed a cinnamon sprinkle. 

“Mm, this is is really good coffee.”

“Hunk’s place, down the road.”

“The Diner?”

“That’s the one. He’s got a magic touch when it comes to food, I’ve already eaten there twice and he’s making it really hard to stick to one cheat day a week.”

“Do they have pumpkin spice lattes?”

Shiro laughed. “You can get your milk on the side, or in the coffee, I think that’s about it for types of coffee. But you could always ask him.”

“Maybe I will. I miss them. I know they were fifteen hundred calories a sip but I really liked them.”

“I know.”

The sugar and coffee seemed to kick in and Allura’s eyes widened. “Oh, my god, the date! How did it go? Tell me everything!” She peered at him. “It looks like it went well.”

Pleased his friend had noticed, he swallowed his bite.

“Best. Date. Ever.”

“What? Really? I’m so jealous and so happy for you all at once. What was he like? What did you do? Did you…?” She waggled her eyebrows comically.

Shiro laughed at her expression. “We didn’t. We kissed.”

His mind happily padded the now well-known trail back to the hoard of memories from last night, picking out that first kiss and holding it up for inspection. Keith had almost vibrated under his hands, filled with such nervous energy. He’d responded so readily, moans and sighs spilling unchecked from his lips. For several minutes, no thought to how he looked, what he was missing had passed through his brain. It hadn’t been until Keith’s deft fingers landed on his shirt buttons that he’d remembered the next sequence in the dance they were doing. The thought that Keith would pause, would see him as less, had frozen the molten desire in his veins. But he’d looked up at him, those deep eyes unshielded and earnest when he told him he’d never wanted anyone like he wanted Shiro.

He could barely believe it. That what he felt was so absolutely mirrored in Keith. It was too perfect to be real life, to be true. 

“Earth to Shiro, Earth to Shiro,” Allura’s voice interrupted his thoughts. She giggled. “I won’t ask how it was since I lost you for almost a full minute there. I can extrapolate and I am jealous.”

Sheepishly, Shiro rubbed his neck. “Yeah, sorry.” He cleared his throat.

Allura smiled and tilted her head, sipping her coffee delicately. “What about the rest of it? Did he talk? I hear he’s taciturn at best.”

“He talked. We talked, I don’t even know what about. It was just...easy.” 

He’d never talked to someone quite like Keith. He just voiced what he thought, and in some that could have been an unattractive quality, but because what he thought came from the soul of an innately kind person, it just added to his charm. 

“On a first date? That’s impressive.”

“Right?” Shiro knitted his eyebrows, ran a finger through the sugar left in the box. “We even talked about...about the accident.”

Allura blinked, she knew he didn’t like to talk about it, not even with her.

“And how did that feel?”

“It felt...It was hard, but it felt good after. That he knew.”

His friend nodded. “That’s good. I’m really glad, Shiro.”

“Me too,” he grinned.

“So when are you going out again?”

“Not sure. Soon, I hope.”

“Well, I can’t wait to hear about it. And since you’re the one who got some yesterday, I volunteer you and your good mood to look at the balance sheet this morning.”

“Fine.”

Her elegant eyebrows rose. “Not even a token protest? A grimace? That must have been some date, Shirogane.”

“It sure as hell was.”

Shiro’s good mood persisted, even through the balance sheet battle, which this early in their business looked depressingly red and negative. It stuck with him through lunch, through his afternoon appointments and at the gym. It lifted from good to elated when he spotted Keith walking down the street. He was carrying a grocery bag, steering for his car. He hadn’t seen him, and Shiro sneaked up behind him, greeting him.

Keith turned, too used to people calling his name in a town this size to be even slightly alarmed.

Spotting Shiro, the smile that bloomed on his face struck Shiro somewhere under his breastbone and glowed. It had taken him two days to be given the first one and now he was on the receiving end of that smile from just appearing. 

“Hey,” Shiro greeted him and stepped close. Keith obligingly shifted the groceries to his hip and watching him carefully, Shiro leaned in and kissed him. It was a soft, gentle touch of lips but he was very aware of the power underneath. Like the sea, there was a calm surface, but unseen currents were just an inch away. Pulling away before he was too tempted to explore where the current would take him, Shiro smiled. Keith’s eyes looked dazed and his bangs were falling into his eyes.

“I can’t believe I get to do that.”

“A…” Keith had to stop to clear his throat, then tried again. “Anytime.”

Shiro chuckled. Keith was just so...cute, sometimes. Despite the ripped jeans, the tough hands and the long hair. Cute.

“So...I had a great time last night.”

“Me too.” A second smile graced Keith’s features and Shiro tucked it away into his memories.

“Do you...Would you like to do it again? We could-”

“Yes,” Keith said before he could finish the rambling sentence. Relaxing now that he already had a yes, Shiro continued.

“We could go out, or if you want, we could go to my place?”

“I’d like to see your place.”

“Fair warning, I can only microwave stuff but I am a connoisseur of all microwaveable food brands.”

Keith actually laughed and tossed his hair out of his eyes. Shiro thought he might combust on the spot. 

“Consider me warned. When?”

If not even Shiro’s admission he couldn’t cook anything that didn’t come with an instruction label regarding wattage and times could scare Keith away, he had to have a good chance? 

“Tomorrow too soon?”

Keith looked stunned and Shiro cursed internally. Of course that was too soon, you didn’t ask people out for the day after, it was rude and inconsiderate and-

“Sure, tomorrow’s great.”

“You don’t mind that it’s on a Sunday? For work?”

“I don’t work nine to five, Shiro.”

“Oh.” An image of Keith the first time he’d seen him, rounding the corner all sweaty and rugged but with a face so pretty it could have sold millions of records, graced any magazine page flashed in his mind. Shiro only had a vague idea of exactly what mechanics did but he knew it included tools and coiling muscles and engine oil. Suddenly he really wanted to go see Keith at work again. “Of course.”

“So you don’t need to worry about keeping me late.” He said it with his eyes frankly on Shiro’s but a vague blush dusted his cheeks.

Shiro’s heart did a double beat, trying to catch up and even out but Keith’s presence just kept it pattering on. Like a fat cat on a treadmill. 

“Duly noted,” he smiled and leaned down again. Keith kissed him back, the hand holding his car keys coming to rest against his neck. Someone down the street wolf whistled and Shiro pulled away, surprised.

Shiro was fully expecting to see Allura but the woman walking towards them was older. Dark hair in a choppy, short cut, an elfin, triangular face, tall frame and slim build. Ambling towards them in jeans, boots and a flannel, smiling behind dark sunglasses, Shiro could have picked out the family resemblance in the dark. She looked like Keith.

“Oh god.” Keith groaned. “That’s my mom.”

“That’s your  _ mom _ ?” His stomach clenched with nerves and he wished really badly he’d not been caught making out with this woman’s son. 

“Sweetheart,” the woman greeted Keith. “And you must be Shiro. I’m Krolia Kogane.”

She held out a hand and he shook it, dazed. 

“He really is handsome,” she directed to Keith whose eyes turned heavenward. “I’ve been hearing rumours from my son,” she smiled. He could tell the smile was genuine but there was a watching look in her stance and he knew he was being measured. 

“Ah..thank you, Mrs Kogane. Keith’s told me a lot about you.”

“All lies, I’m sure.” She said it tenderly and Shiro sensed a closeness between the mother and son he could only imagine. 

“I hope not, it was all to your advantage.”

Krolia barked out a laugh. Lowering her sunglasses to look at him over the rims, he could see she was also the reason Keith’s eyes were such a dark, rich blue.

“I like him. You should bring him to dinner soon.”

“Mom!” Keith hissed and Shiro had an insight into how adorable Keith would have been when he was younger.

“I’d love to, Mrs Kogane.”

“Manners, see?” She pointed at him while looking at Keith. “And we’d love to have you. Just let us know when.”

And with that she kissed Keith on the cheek, pushed her sunglasses back up and continued down the street.

“I’m sorry about that. We really don’t need to go see them, she’s just being protective. And she thought that was really funny.”

Shiro exhaled. “I’m just glad she didn’t yell at me for putting my hands on you in public or something.”

“She wouldn’t dare. I catch her and Dad at it at least once a week. Pot, kettle.”

“I…” Shiro had no idea what kind of family he’d just stumbled upon. “I would like to meet them, though. But if you don’t want me to…”

“No, no, I do! I just thought...It’s a bit early, meeting the parents after you’ve been on two dates. I don’t want to scare you away.”

“You’ll have to do a lot worse than introduce me to your parents to scare me away.”

And, he realized watching Keith in the fall sunlight, that was truer than he’d thought.

**  
  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
  
**

“Did you really have to do that?” Keith asked the second he entered his parents’ house. His mom, standing at a safe distance from the pot on the stove, was talking to his dad who was making whatever was in the pot. 

“Hey, sweetie,” his mom greeted him and his dad smiled over his shoulder.

“Did you?”

Krolia grinned and leaned against the counter. “I really did. It’s not every day I find my son kissing the man of his dreams for all and sundry to see outside the market.”

“It was not for all and sundry to see, we were-”

“You were on Main Street. I’d be surprised if everyone hasn’t heard about it by now.”

Keith wished he was a little less delighted at the prospect of people knowing that he and Shiro were dating. But the knowledge that a man like Shiro had chosen Keith, the scrawny, prickly town mechanic, soothed something inside him that he hadn’t realized was hurting. 

“But inviting him over? We’ve been on  _ one  _ date.”

“One of many to come from the look of that kiss.”

A blush rose on his face.

“We just want to know who he is, Keith. He’s new in town, nobody really knows him yet,” his father said, his deep voice slow and calm.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about? He’s the newcomer? I thought you guys didn’t put any stock in that kind of thing.”

His parents exchanged a look. The kind that married people used to communicate without anyone else hearing.

“Not as much as others maybe, but we just want to make sure he’s…”

“Good enough for you,” his mom filled in.

“Good enough?” Keith’s voice slid high. Then he laughed. Sat down at the kitchen island and rested his head on the cool stone counter. “I think he’s the best man I’ve ever met,” he told the counter top at a mumble. But clearly his parents had heard.

“Good,” Krolia said, her hand coming to settle at his neck, soothing.

He heard a clink next to his ear and turned his face to see his father had but a beer next to him.

“I’m glad to hear it, son.”

**  
  
**

o.O.o

****  
  


Keith knew the address Shiro had given him, just like he knew all addresses in the small town. He had an idea of what most houses looked like from the outside. Shiro’s was a bland little two story apartment building close to the main street. They were among the newer buildings in the town. Shiro had a ground floor apartment, which he knew meant there was a tiny backyard. 

Knocking on the door, Shiro opened. He was wearing a light beige sweater instead of a button down this time and it looked sinfully soft. It only hinted at the pecs underneath, and he’d pushed up the sleeves and tucked in the front of it. Until then, Keith would have probably deemed sweaters rather low on the scale of sexiness but Shiro’s wide shoulders and trim waist pushed it firmly up into the top five.

“Hey, you look good,” Shiro greeted him, his eyes travelling over Keith’s standard open shirt and t-shirt. He’d remembered to check they were both without holes and that equated “nice” in his wardrobe. 

“Ah...thanks. So do you.”

“Thank you. Allura got this for me for Christmas last year and I have to say she’s got a point about cashmere.”

Keith couldn’t fight the temptation and he reached out. The fabric was soft and warm over Shiro’s hard muscles. Something close to a purr escaped him.

”I agree.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Shiro smiled and then tugged him closer. Willingly Keith let him lead the kiss, decide how far they were taking it. He’d been ready to strip since he entered the apartment but he wasn’t going to push his luck. Shiro was more than worth waiting for. 

That didn’t mean it wasn’t hard to resist. Especially when Shiro pressed him against the wall and started nibbling down his throat. 

“Mmmh, how...how do you smell so good? What is it?” Shiro murmured against his skin and simply the vibration of it against the tender skin of his neck made Keith’s back arch off the wall. Eyes on the ceiling to not be led further astray, he tried to form the words to answer. 

“Ah!” Shiro bit down and Keith’s hips jerked in response. “Soap. It’s...just soap.”

Shiro chuckled, buried his head against Keith’s neck. “Jesus, it’s like you don’t even have to try and I...I want you so badly.”

The words set fire to every cell in Keith’s body. 

“Wh-” his words didn’t carry and he swallowed, tried again.”When you’re ready, you can have me. I’m not going anywhere, Shiro.”

A shudder went through the other man and on instinct, Keith wrapped his arms around him. The heat faded into something else, something warm and comfortable. Shiro’s arms came to rest around his waist and for a few minutes they just stood, wrapped around each other. 

Shiro sighed lightly, stepped back. “So, I know I promised you microwave food but Hunk overheard me talking about it in the Diner and wouldn’t allow it. He sent over a couple of things, with microwave instructions attached. Hopefully even I can’t mess them up.” 

The grin was boyish and it tugged one in response from him.

“You better not, Hunk would come hunt you down. With a spatula.”

Laughing, Shiro started down the hall.

“Welcome, by the way. This is the hall, here’s the living room and the kitchen and over there is the bedroom and the bathroom. That’s it, really.”

It was very sparse, he could tell Shiro had just moved in. There was what looked like a brand new couch in the corner, and a bookcase in the hall. The bedroom and bathroom doors were half closed but Keith guessed he wouldn’t have gotten much further there. Turning so he could see the kitchen he was met by a 90’s-tastic dark veneer and fake black marble counter experience. 

“I’m just renting this place, until I find somewhere I want to buy. But it’s really close to work, and it was available.”

Keith didn’t really care it was basic, but it bothered him when he spotted some issues. The tap was dripping, one of the cupboard doors was hanging loose, the light fixture looked way past any recent regulation and the paint was cracked in one corner.

“Landlord not up to fixing those?”

“Mr Throk says he will get to it but he hasn’t said when.”

“Throk?” Keith frowned. “You could be waiting forever.”

“Oh? Is he not known for his time keeping abilities?”

“Let’s just say he likes betting on the races more than he likes being a landlord.”

“Well, there was bound to be something about this town that wasn’t perfect,” Shiro smiled over his shoulder.

The implication struck him. No one, except his parents, had ever told him he was perfect. Usually he got to hear “You’re hot but…” “I like you but…” “This has been fun but…” There was no but following Shiro’s statement and Keith had to look away to gather himself again. 

“I’m glad you like Altea,” he muttered.

“It’s growing on me every day.” 

The microwave dinged and something that smelled fantastic spread its aroma in the small kitchen. 

“I don’t have a table yet, I hope it’s okay to eat at the island?”

“Of course.” No one had really worried about the setting for a date with Keith before. He was a tailgate, Diner, lounging on the couch kind of date. Not someone who you set tables for, or brought wine. Except Shiro. Shiro treated him like he was special, and not in the way that set his teeth on edge, but special to him. 

“Hunk says this is fettuccine and that it’s similar to the mac and cheese I had planned.” 

“Mac and cheese, huh?”

For some reason Shiro blushed. “It’s my favourite. My ex said I have the tastebuds of a child.”

“I like mac and cheese. I’ll make you some, next time.” He’d dared to say it and then bent over his pasta, letting his hair shield his face and the red cheeks he knew he had.

“I’d love that.”

They ate Hunk’s pasta, then moved to the couch where Shiro opted to sit down next to him, instead of on the short bar of the L-shape. Keith felt their knees touch and folded his hands loosely to keep them from reaching out.

“Have you lived in Altea all your life?”

“Yeah. I was born in a car on the highway, though. Between here and Galra - the closest city. The car broke down and they were waiting for an ambulance. Mom says I was in too much of a hurry to get out and get on with it to wait for them.”

Shiro chuckled. “So it was fate then, that you became a mechanic?”

“That’s how the story goes,” Keith agreed. His mom loved that story, and the fact that he’d ended up a mechanic. “Now I service every car driven by anyone who’s expecting, free of charge. I was fine but no one should be born in the backseat of a Dodge.”

“That is...possibly the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s no big deal,” Keith shifted uneasily. Compliments had always been harder for him to deal with than insults. “Usually it gets me dinner, or a beer.”

“Don’t make light of it, Keith. It’s an amazing thing to do.” Shiro leaned into his line of sight. “ _ You’re  _ amazing.”

Keith fidgeted and Shiro’s voice softened. “You don’t believe that, do you? I can see it makes you uncomfortable when I say something I like about you.”

“I just…” He felt Shiro shift closer. “Yeah, it makes me uncomfortable. When people say something good about me. I never know what to do, or say. Or even why it makes me...itchy.”

“I believe my therapist said accepting compliments makes you vulnerable, because if you believe it, you’d believe anything negative they said about you too. It’s a defense mechanism that allows you to close yourself off to bad feelings, or rejection. Sorry, I’m not a therapist, it was just something she said that stuck with me.”

Keith shook his head, the information percolating in his brain. He’d never really talked with anyone about how it felt. His friends knew that if they gave him a compliment, he’d either shrug or he’d dismiss it, they were used to that by now. His parents had tried the approach of praising everything he did and it had been uncomfortable. The previous dates he’d had had usually stuck to praising his looks or his skill in bed. 

“Did...did she say anything else about it?”

Shiro smiled. “She said it’s not the same for everyone. Some people are at ease with compliments, usually because their image of themselves more closely matches to what people see. They believe the compliments. Others have a picture that’s far more negative and that makes them think the person being positive about us is lying. It can undermine trust to just heap compliments on because they think they’re being lied to. Self-esteem is at the heart of this, and while you can quite convincingly appear self-confident, it’s a deeper issue. I should know,” Shiro shrugged. 

Keith tried to take in the information that these things that sounded like him, were true for Shiro too. Shiro who was perfect. Shiro who was kind, smart and beautiful. For some reason tears wanted to rise in his eyes and he blinked furiously. 

“I...I just thought I was weird.”

“You’re not weird, Keith.”

“I am, though.” He pushed to his feet, anxious frustration forcing him to move. “I never know what people really mean, and I’m slow, I never know what to say or how to say it. I keep thinking someone will understand it if I say it just right but they don’t and I end up looking like I was trying to be mean or, or…”

Shiro waited, no mockery in his eyes.

“I just can’t find the words. I’m weird, there has to be something wrong with me.”

“It’s not weird, Keith,” Shiro repeated. “I’ve spoken to you and all I’ve ever thought was that you were honest.”

“Too honest,” Keith sneered at himself. “I know.”

“No,” Shiro’s voice was gentle. “Just honest.” He got to his feet too. “And please, when you’re with me, just be honest. I don’t want to hear any social niceties or tired platitudes. Just speak how you want to speak.”

“I will. I do. I mean, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this comfortable around.”

“Good. I like you, Keith, just the way you are. I don’t care if you’re not some social butterfly.”

The words “social butterfly” had probably never been uttered in the same breath as his name and Keith couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up. It was mixed with relief, this astounding relief, a wondrous disbelief and a trust that Keith had only felt for a very limited amount of people before and never this quickly. 

Joining him, Shiro laughed too. Words that wanted to escape bubble in his throat but this time it was by conscious choice he held back. He didn’t want to do anything to could scare Shiro away. 

“You’ll never have to worry about that, I don’t think I’ll ever be Mr Social.”

“And you don’t need to be.” Shiro sank back down on the couch and held out an arm in invitation.

Easily, Keith joined him and allowed himself to curl under Shiro’s arm. For a few minutes they were just silent and he appreciated getting to catch his bearings.

“Do you feel okay?”

“I feel better than okay.”

“Good.” He could feel Shiro’s smile against the top of his head. Turning his head, their lips were already close to touching and he got to taste the smile for himself. In what seemed like moments, Keith was under Shiro on the couch, leaned against the arm rest. Shiro was supporting his impressive weight but Keith tugged him closer, wanting to feel his warm body press him deeper into the couch. Covered with him from head to toe Keith fought the instinct to work his hands between them and rid Shiro of his sweater. Focussing instead on running his hands into his hair, he was rewarded with a rumbling moan. 

The sound of a phone rang out and Shiro jumped off.

“I’m sorry, that’s the work line. There has to be an emergency.”

Arousal had fogged his brain and he tried to clear it while Shiro picked up the phone on the counter, and spoke to someone on the other end. When he hung up, he rubbed his hands over his face.

“It’s a Mrs Kowalski, her dog. Where is Cherry Lane?”

“I’ll drive you.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Allura usually drives you, right? Since your car isn’t working. If you have to go by the clinic you’d be adding time to getting there.”

“I can’t impose on you to-”

Keith was already off the couch. “Let’s go.”

Shiro nodded and in the hall he pulled a bag from the wardrobe. Then they set off. Keith noticed Shiro’s hand was wrapped hard around the passenger side door handle. 

“Are you okay?”

“It’s...actually not too bad. It’s usually worse, having other people drive me.”

“I’ll take “usually worse”,” Keith said in an attempt to lighten the mood. 

Shiro smiled slightly. “Sorry, I know that’s not very flattering after you’ve been very kind and agreed to drive me.”

“I’d drive just for Mrs Kowalski and Princess.”

“Princess?”

“Princess.” Glancing at Shiro and the slight paleness in his cheeks, he tried to distract him. “Princess is...one of those really fluffy, orange breeds, a really special face?”

“A chow-chow?”

“Yeah, and she’s beloved by Mrs Kowalski, who likes to dress her in different bows each day, usually to match her tracksuit. They walk past the kindergarten most days and all the kids love Princess. For Halloween last year, Princess wore a crown and a tutu and I’m pretty sure Mrs Kowalski has a place setting for her at the table.”

“So Princess has got it made?”

“Princess has got it made,” Keith agreed. Turning the corner at a slower speed that he normally would, he pulled in to the curb. “We’re here. It’s the pink one,” he nodded to the house painted candy floss pink with white shutters. It looked more like Middle Class Barbie would live there than the stout Mrs Kowalski.

Shiro jumped out, bag in hand and walked up to the house. In moments the discomfort was gone and an easy, calm confidence had taken its place. The door opened before he’d reached it.

“Doctor Shirogane!” 

Mrs Kowalski was dressed in a green tracksuit today, but had gotten as far into the evening that she’d put her rollers in. Her eyes were ablaze with worry and panic made her movements jittery.

“She’s in the sitting room, I put her on the couch.”

Shiro nodded and went into the house. 

“Keith?” Mrs Kowalski spotted him.

“Hi, Mrs Kowalski. I’m not here to disturb, I just drove Shiro over. His car is broken.”

“Oh, well, come in, come in.” She hurried away and Keith followed.

The house was less pink on the inside but it had a definite air of potpurri and every surface gleamed. On a pouffy cream couch, Princess was lying looking helpless.

Shiro was kneeling on the hardwood floor, stethoscope already out. With one hand running soothingly over Princess’ fur, he placed the instrument to her ribs. 

Mrs Kowalski was talking rapidly, listing everything they’d done that day, what had happened, how Princess wasn’t eating and didn’t want to walk and not even her favorite treats could convince her to move. 

Shiro was making low hums, somehow reassuring in their wordlessness that he was both listening and calming Mrs Kowalski’s speech down into a more sensible pace. He began asking questions, his voice deep and gentle. Princess was giving him an adoring look from the couch and Keith could fully empathize. 

“Is...is she really sick? I...I can’t lose her, Princess is everything to me.”

Keith knew what she meant, and pity shrivelled his heart.

“Princess will be fine. She has a cold. It’ll take her a few days to get over it.”

“A cold?” She stopped wringing her hands. “Just a cold?”

“Yes,” Shiro smiled. “It’ll pass.”

“I...I’m sorry, I...I called the emergency number and I made you come out at night and it’s just a cold...I was sure…”

Shiro put a hand to her shoulder. “You did the absolute right thing, Mrs Kowalski. If your dog has trouble breathing and doesn’t want to move, you should definitely call your vet. I’m happy it’s something I can help with. Just keep her away from other dogs until she stops sneezing, wipe any mucus away gently and don’t force her to go for walks until she seems to want to. Humid air can help with the congestion so if you keep her in the bathroom while you take a bath or a shower, that can help her breathe a little easier.”

“Are there any pills I can give her?”

“Not really. Don’t give her anything that’s a cold relief for humans, some of them are really bad for dogs.”

Mrs Kowalski nodded, sniffing a little herself. “I won’t. Thank you.”

“Anytime, Mrs Kowalski. And if you think she’s getting any worse, you call, okay?”

“I will.”

They said goodbye to Mrs Kowalski, and to Princess, and then Shiro picked up his bag and they headed for the car. 

“That was really impressive.”

“That I can tell a dog has a cold?” Shiro’s eyebrows rose.

“Well, that but more the way you calmed Mrs Kowalski down, while working and then you didn’t make her feel stupid.”

“It wasn’t stupid. You need to listen to your dog and Mrs Kowalski does.”

Keith nodded. “It was just...kind of sexy to watch you work.”

“Yeah?” Shiro looked delighted at this. “Then maybe you’ll let me watch you work sometime?”

“You want to see me all grimy and sweaty, swearing over an engine?”

“Duh,” Shiro rolled his eyes and laughed. 

Keith couldn’t help joining in.


	7. Chapter 7

“Shiro, are you...singing?” Allura popped her head into the store room.

“Hmm?” Shiro looked up from his clipboard. “Am I?”

“Yeah, you’re humming. You’ve been doing it for a while.”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just nice to hear it again.”

“Again?”

“You used to hum all the time before. I could tell which days with Adam had been good because you hummed.”

Shiro chuckled. “Wow, you must know me better than I know myself.”

“I’d like to think so,” Allura joked. “So things with Keith are going well, I assume?”

“They are.” He couldn’t help the silly grin that broke out. “I got an emergency call interrupting our date last night and he didn’t mind. He even drove me there.”

Allura entered the room fully and sat down on a box. “He drove you?”

“It went fine,” Shiro soothed. “No panic attacks, nothing. He kept distracting me by talking and I think he succeeded.”

“That’s fantastic, Shiro!”

“I couldn’t believe it myself.”

“So when is the next date?”

“His parents invited me over for dinner on Wednesday.”

“Meeting the parents? Already?”

“I think being new in town they want to suss me out.”

“Well, all mothers of your boyfriends have adored you so far. You’re the walking embodiment of a mother in law’s dream.”

“Somehow that doesn’t sound like a compliment.”

“Of course it is. You’re responsible, honest, hardworking and handsome. Who wouldn’t want someone like that for their kid?”

“I just hope they like me well enough it won’t put Keith off.”

He really did. 

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

“Are you sure this is okay?” Keith asked for the third time during the drive to his parents house. “I can tell them it’s ridiculous and that you’ll meet them later.”

“It’s fine, Keith. I’m looking forward to getting to know them.”

“You just wait til my mother starts interrogating you,” Keith mumbled darkly. 

“I happen to have a job that taught me to perform well under pressure. I can take it.”

This made Keith crack a smile and happily, Shiro turned to look out the window. Trees obscured the view on either side and the car bumped along a dirt road.

The house they arrived at was very similar to what Keith had but bigger. A log style house with a porch wrapped all around sat in a clearing surrounded by trees. 

“They like to be a bit out of the way.”

“Like parents, like son?”

Keith shrugged, “Must be.”

“Did you grow up here?”

“I did.”

Shiro looked around, picturing a smaller Keith running around the clearing, biking down the lane, playing in the piles of leaves. “Must have been great.”

“It was. I always liked being home.”

Meaning away from home was more of a problem growing up, Shiro read between the lines. 

“Are you ready?”

“Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you that?”

“You look about as nervous as I feel.”

“You’re nervous?”

“Of course I’m nervous. I like you, so I really want them to like me.”

Keith’s shoulders relaxed a little. “And I hope you like them so you won’t be put off me.”

Shiro laughed at the mirroring of their feelings. Slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulders, he pulled him close and whispered against his hair, “Never.”

Krolia opened the door before they could knock. “I heard you drive up. Welcome,” she smiled at Shiro but he still sensed a note of wariness. Getting invited was not the seal of approval here. 

“Thank you for having me, Mrs Kogane.” He handed her the flowers he’d bought. 

“Oh. They’re lovely, thank you.”

They stepped into a narrow hall and hung their jackets before going into the kitchen. A man who could only be Keith’s father turned from the stove. He was taller than his son, broader over the shoulders but the set of their lips and the winged eyebrows were the same. 

“Mr Kogane, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.” They shook hands and Shiro felt hard calluses and a firm pressure. Everything about the man conveyed a sense of security, reliability. “Keith’s been telling us a lot about you.”

Shiro ignored Keith’s hissed “ _ Dad! _ ” in favour of stating, “I’m glad to hear it. I’ve been talking my friend’s ear off about Keith.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kogane senior grinned. “I hope you eat beef, I’ve made stew.”

Stew turned out to be a humble name for the casserole served with fresh, steaming bread, golden butter and a crisp salad. It was one of the best meals Shiro had ever had. 

“This is amazing, Mr Kogane,” Shiro enthused as he was served a third helping he hadn’t been able to refuse.

Keith’s father beamed. “Good.” He held out the plate. “And call me Cameron, Mr Kogane was my dad.”

“It was, Cam’s father was the principal of the high school. He was and always will be Mr Kogane to me.”

“You called grandpa Mr Kogane?”

“He used to teach me Maths, there was no way I’d dare call him anything else,” Krolia said. 

“I’m pretty sure I’d have felt the same. I had a Mrs Conrad in Maths and I remember finding out her first name was Cordelia and not being able to imagine anyone calling her that, not even her husband.”

Keith shook his head. “Everyone called our Maths teacher by name, he was always Reed, not Mr Kincade.”

“Really?”

Shiro was surprised how easily the conversation flowed and before he knew it, he’d polished off his last helping too. Then Cameron got Keith to help him with the dishes and Krolia leaned forward over the table. Shiro realized this was the real point of the evening and felt his hands start to sweat. 

“I believe this is the part where I ask what your intentions are and bla bla bla but I don’t really think either of you knows where this is going yet. What I want you to know is that…”

She looked up, over his shoulder in the direction where Keith would be in the kitchen. 

“My son...He’s got a lot of edges. He hasn’t always had it easy and to protect himself he’s taken the porcupine approach - all spikes out. It takes someone special to get as far past his walls as I can see he’s already let you and if you betray that then…”

Her eyes flashed, “I’ll hunt you down and kill you slowly. I’ve watched enough cop shows to know how to get rid of a body.”

It should have been funnier than it was, but the woman across from him had for a moment looked calmly capable of murder.

Weighing his words, Shiro tried to convey something of what he felt. “Mrs Kogane, I feel something for Keith that I have never felt before. I don’t know exactly what it is but he means a lot to me, more than I thought possible, already. I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. I’m just grateful when he looks at me, he sees something he thinks is...worthwhile.”

Krolia’s face softened.

“Oh, sweetie, I think he sees a lot more than that.” She leaned back in her chair. “He’s got stars in his eyes every time he talks about you.”

Heat crept up his neck and washed over his face. 

Krolia noticed and laughed. “You just enjoy it. And,” she toasted him, “you can call me Krolia.”

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

Shiro had never lived in a small town before. It turned out, he really enjoyed it. The slower pace, the friendlier faces, the small conversations on street corners. It took him three times longer to get anywhere but he had come to look forward to it and planned the journey time accordingly. He enjoyed the cadence of life, how no one was rushing around, stressing. Everything was allowed to take its time.

Princess recovered from her cold and was back to strutting next to Mrs Kowalski in a few days. Keith reported his parents had nothing ill to say about him, and the clinic was doing a brisk business. The fall sunshine was sticking while the temperature suddenly dropped below freezing and the blue sky set off the fireworks of tree crowns in a riotous celebration of the season. 

Shiro couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy but he knew it had been a long time. And the main reason for his happiness was currently bent in half over the engine of a Honda Jazz, swearing. As the Indian summer had given in and the temperature, despite the sun, was cold Keith had, to Shiro’s chagrin, had to give up on t-shirts and stuck to flannels. It didn’t really take away from the effect he was enjoying currently though. Keith’s slender but strong arms, the long-fingered hands, moving surely, tensing and bunching when he worked was plenty good enough for Shiro. He knew you had to have it bad when you found watching someone’s forearms outrageously sexy but he couldn’t help it. And since there was nothing he could do about it, he might as well enjoy it.

Leaning against the car parked next to the Honda, he watched as Keith’s hair fell forward when he moved. His hands itched to reach out and run his hands through it. He’d never been aware of having a thing for long hair before and now it haunted the majority of his waking dreams. He wanted to push his hands into it, grab hold, pull Keith’s head back to angle his face for a kiss. In scenarios that made him blush in daylight to think about, he could vividly picture fisting his hands into it, listening to Keith’s breath hitch. He wanted to stroke it, just run his hand over the back of his head, or twist a strand of it between his fingers just to feel the softness. 

“Shiro!” Keith suddenly interrupted his thoughts. He admitted that was probably a good thing, considering they were in public.

“Hi,” he smiled. “You looked like you were concentrating so I thought I’d just wait.”

“You should have told me you were here.” Keith straightened and shook his hair out of his eyes.

“I’m here. I brought you this,” he held out the cup from Hunk’s Diner. “It’s a pumpkin spice latte. Or, his version of it. Allura has been begging him to come up with something like it. I think he’s calling it a Trick or Treat.”

“What’s a pumpkin spice latte?”

Shiro laughed. “Taste, and find out.”

Keith accepted the cup and had a sip. “Sweet.”

“Yeah, it’s more like a dessert than coffee. But I was going to have one and then I thought, why don’t I get two, and that way I have an excuse to see you?”

The smile flitted over Keith’s face in a moment. Like reflections of the sun, you sometimes couldn’t tell where they came from or where they went but they danced over his features, lightening them. In his chest, Shiro’s heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wing. 

“It’s nice to see you too,” Keith said, head bent over his keep cup. 

In Shiro’s book it was better than any romantic poetry or smooth flirting. 

“Yeah? Then how about we go on another date? I’d like to take you out.”

“Out?” Keith blinked. “Where?”

“Wherever you like. I just want to take you somewhere nice and stare at you from across the table, having no idea we’re somewhere nice.”

Keith chuckled a little at this. “I guess…”

“What’s your favourite place?”

“Well, Yellow,” Keith shrugged. “But I guess that’s not what you mean.”

“That is what I mean. I want to take you somewhere you want to go.”

“Oh.”

Keith sounded pleased through the surprise.

“How’s Friday?”

“It’s...Yeah. Yeah, I can do Friday.”

“Good. Meet you there?”

“Sure.”

For some reason Keith looked a bit dazed, like he’d been staring into the sun for too long. 

“Okay. I can’t wait.”

Then he leaned in and tasted the sweet drink from Keith’s lips. It took a moment but he responded, weaving his arms around Shiro’s neck. The fact that he had to bend slightly to meet him made something inside him purr. He wanted to wrap his arms around his waist and lift, plastering him to his front. A sound midway between a sigh and a moan escaped Keith and Shiro pulled back, leaning his forehead against the mechanic’s.

“See you Friday.”

**  
  
**

o.O.o

****  
  


Keith had never in his life been courted but he very strongly suspected he was now. Shiro made little thoughtful gestures, like bringing him coffee or texting him just to tell him he was thinking of Keith. He had asked him out on a very real date, and not blinked an eye that where Keith wanted to go was a small town bar. It was both thrilling and comforting to be with someone who allowed him to be himself fully. Shiro didn’t expect him to keep a conversation going at all times, he didn’t get impatient when it took him a while to answer his questions, or prod for his attention when he wanted to be alone. It was like he had a sensor and he knew exactly when to get in touch or swing by and when to leave Keith to his own devices. 

It wasn’t like he did much when he was alone but he did need those times to center himself again, to not have to think about how he behaved or what he said. Usually a long walk with Kosmo or a beer on his porch was enough time to get him into an easy mood. 

And somehow, Shiro knew. 

It terrified him that he might get used to having someone in his life, someone like Shiro. Someone who was so far out of his league, who would realize one day how much more than a skinny small town mechanic he could get. And Keith would be the one left with the pieces. Left to know he’d never find anyone again who would allow him to be just himself, who thought that was enough. But despite the terror, he couldn’t even begin the thought of how he could withdraw, leave while his heart was still his in part. 

Instead, he was ruminating on what to do in return. He wasn’t one for romantic gestures, often he had a hard time understanding them, but Shiro was clearly a romantic. Flowers, chocolates and cards all seemed silly and pointless. So, he did something that came more naturally to him. He hoped Shiro would forgive that he went into his house without him there. 

Hauling the tool box from the bed of the truck to the door, he found the spare key under the mat and let himself in.

Without Shiro in it, it felt even more soulless. It looked just like what Shiro had said it was - a stop on the way. He really hoped Shiro’s stay in town would be more permanent than his residence in the short-term let. 

Setting the tool box down, he got started on the cupboard door that was loose. 

In less than an hour he’d sorted the door, and the light. He was working on the tap when Shiro entered, a bag of takeout in his hand. 

“Keith?”

“Hi.” He strained to tighten the washer. 

“What are you doing?”

“Fixing the tap. It was dripping.”

“Isn’t that Mr Throk’s job?”

“You could be waiting forever for him to get around. I thought I’d just get it sorted.”

Shiro padded over, peered around. “You fixed the door too.”

“It was loose.”

“And the light.”

“That was a fire hazard.”

Shiro’s smile grew wider. “You did all that for me?”

Shiro’s face lit up in a way Keith would remember and treasure.

“It’s not that much, whatever Throk says about it.”

“It’s a lot to me.” He looked down from the light fixture he’d been beaming at. “Thank you.”

Keith shrugged.

“No, I mean it, really. Thank you, Keith.”

His voice was warm and gentle and seeped through cracks in the armour he didn’t know he had until it reached his insides, filling something that had been empty. 

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly. 

Shiro was walking around the kitchen, happily opening and closing the cupboard door, turning the light off and on. No one had ever appreciated anything he did in such an obvious manner. His friends and his parents thanked him for when he helped out, but his mom had never gotten childlike pleasure written all over her features at opening and closing a door four times. It made him decide he would come back and plaster and paint the crack in the corner. Just to see that look on Shiro’s face again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are getting close to earning the rating for this story so...stay tuned :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have arrived in the hallowed land of smut! That said, mind the updated tags! If you can think of one I've missed you think should be there, just let me know. I hope you enjoy!

He had been to Yellow hundreds, if not thousands of times. When he was younger and Hunk’s parents’ still ran it, they’d all played in there during the day hours when it was closed, they had all helped out in the kitchen, worked there in the summers. Yet today, the familiar surroundings seemed new.

He had been on dates there before, at least two, but none of them had made the place feel different. Now it had an air of something he couldn’t name. Shiro held the door open for him and he stepped into the boisterous noise. Nodding to several patrons whom he knew by name, he walked in. About to take a booth, Hunk caught his eye from behind the bar and shook his head. Jerking his chin, Keith followed his line of sight. A table at the far back where it was the quietest and where a wall behind them offered Keith a feeling of safety was set for two and a little sign spelling “RESERVED: SHIROGANE 19:00” stood on top. Keith didn’t think there had ever been a reservation made in Yellow before. 

The table itself was laid with a white tablecloth and lit candles. The serviceable cutlery of the bar had been replaced with something suspiciously similar to the utensils at Hunk’s house. A small vase of autumn leaves and linen napkins completed the look. 

Keith sent Hunk a glare which his friend just returned with a smile. 

“You get really good service here,” Shiro said, smiling, obviously having noted no other tables had tablecloths or cloth napkins or flowers on them. 

“Hunk would have thought it was...funny. We can move, we don’t have to sit at this table screaming…”

“Screaming “ _we’re on a date?_ ”” Shiro leaned closer from behind him and whispered, “What if I’d like to?”

A shiver propagated down Keith’s spine at the tone and goose bumps rose under his skin, from his neck all the way down his arms. 

“O-Okay.”

Shiro was obviously more at ease with the theme and he pulled out the chair for Keith with a wink. Seating himself, he sighed in content.

“I’m not sure I said how great you look.”

Keith looked down, momentarily forgetting what he was actually wearing. It was one of his few button downs (Shiro had now seen two out of three of them), the dark blue one. 

“Thanks. You too.”

_ You too _ , was perhaps the greatest understatement of all time to describe how Shiro looked in a t-shirt worn with a well-fitted slate jacket. If his heart rate was anything to go by, Shiro looked incredible. 

“Thank you. What do you feel like ordering?”

“Oh, we don’t.” 

Shiro looked questioning. Keith explained, “Hunk will have made something for us. He likes to do that, decide what people should eat for certain occasions. I’m pretty sure he keeps a drawer of menus for each of his friend’s life milestones. He could probably tell you what he’ll serve at Lance’s firstborn child’s christening.”

Shiro laughed, a big, free, rolling laugh. His head thrown back, his eyes lit up. A wave of tenderness and joy washed over him that he’d been the one to provoke that laugh.

“That’s amazing. So you mean he has a “Keith’s fourth date” meal he’ll serve us?”

“Maybe not that exact. I don’t think anyone could predict I’d get a fourth date with anyone. This one’ll be something he’s planned since he heard we were coming here.”

“Well, I did call to make a reservation.”

Keith coughed on his water. “You called?”

Hunk must’ve gotten such a kick out of Shiro calling to ask. 

“You called here and you asked for reservation?” 

“What? They don’t take reservations?”

“Not as far as I know.” Keith laughed at Shiro’s nonplussed face. “Hunk probably thought it was great. He appreciates forward planning.”

“Well, I feel a bit silly now.”

“Don’t. I’m really glad you did call. It’s nice.” He tried to choke down the tentacles of fear reaching upwards from his guts at the admission of feelings. “This,” he gestured, “is nice.”

The smile creased the corners of Shiro’s eyes.

“I think so too.”

Keith had been right and Hunk appeared with a twinkle in his eye to tell them he’d planned everything and to just relax. It turned out he’d found out Shiro liked wine and had convinced Keith to drink some recently so he served a nice red in large glasses Keith was once again sure did not belong to the bar. It was followed by a hearty meal of steak and potatoes and a big helping of salad. The joy in his manner when Shiro fairly inhaled his meal was obvious. 

Afterwards, Keith had no choice but was served tiramisu and a small coffee. He couldn’t deny it was one of the best meals Hunk had ever put together for him. Shiro was putting his spoon down with an air of dejection at the meal being over. Keith nudged his plate, still half full towards him.

“Are you sure?” Shiro’s eyes lit up. Keith would give up a lot more than half a dessert for that look. 

He nodded.

Shiro attacked the tiramisu enthusiastically.

“Everything here is so good. I’m going to have to up my gym hours if I keep eating like this.”

“You look perfect,” Keith protested and the realized exactly the word his brain had chosen. “Er…”

Shiro’s entire face beamed, and his frame lifted where he sat. Like Keith had the power to make him feel better. 

“Thanks,” he said quietly and a vague pink appeared on his cheeks. It looked like he was grinning into his second dessert. 

“Any time.”

Keith still had a hard time understanding who someone who looked as good as Shiro didn’t quite believe it himself. How could he look in the mirror and not see every facet that absolutely enthralled Keith?

A few minutes later Shiro got up to wash his hands and Keith sat back.

In moments Hunk was over, closely followed by Lance and Pidge.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“Lance wanted to spy on your date,” Pidge said unapologetically.

“Hey! I said “ _ wingman _ ”, we’re “ _ wingmanning _ ” his date.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, we’re making sure no one comes over to talk to you. We’ve already stopped Coach E and Mrs Fuller.”

“Yeah, Coach E wanted to give you the safe sex talk.”

Keith could feel himself paling at the thought of his old PE teacher stalking over.

“What? Why?”

“She’s got eyes, doesn’t she? She knows what’s up.”

“I’m twenty-four years old for heaven’s sake. I think it’s a bit late for my old PE teacher to get involved now.”

“We said as much. In a nicer way.”

“Guys, you need to go away, Shiro’s only away for a minute.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know. We’ll go…” Lance looked pleased with himself like he always did before he was going to say something that Keith would hate. “Loverboy.”

The groan was all the reaction Lance was after and chortling, the three of them mingled back into the crowd. Keith watched them disappear, half amused, half horrified.

Staring that way, he spotted Shiro, as if a spotlight had been turned on him. Suddenly the crowd around him was nothing but a moving, dark, mass. All he could see was the tall frame and smiling eyes. He held out a hand, and as helpless to resist the pull as he was to escape gravity, he got up and closed the distance. Shiro came to meet him and took his hand. Pulling him closer, into more of an embrace, Keith realized they were on the dance floor.

“I like this song,” he murmured against his hair. 

They could have been playing Hammer Time and Keith wouldn’t have known. His senses were too busy taking in the way his body fit against Shiro’s, the smell of him at the crook of his neck, his heartbeat thudding close to his own. 

Slowly they just swayed in place and Keith marvelled at how the intimacy seemed to seep inside him, taking root and growing strong. 

“Do…” Shiro’s voice was soft and deep in his ears, “do you want to get out of here?”

Keith leaned back and looked up to be able to meet Shiro’s gaze. The naked want in them shook him. He nodded, unable to speak. 

“I’ll pay.”

“No,” Keith shook his head. Turning, he spotted Hunk behind the bar. With a wave he knew Hunk would add the meal his tab. Or maybe not. Either way it was something they could settle later.

By tacit agreement they got in Keith’s car and drove to his place. They were quiet in the car, something huge and unspoken hovering in front of them, just ahead. Keith could feel his fingers trembling and tightened them around the wheel. He hadn’t been nervous about sex since he was seventeen. But he couldn’t remember a time when he had wanted it more, even when he was seventeen. Not even the hormonal blizzard of his teens could compare to how badly he wanted Shiro. 

He parked, and they walked up to his door and into the hall, carefully without touching. Leaving shoes and coats in the hall, they headed inside. Somehow the intimacy from the bar had turned into expectation and then formality in Keith’s head. Not knowing how to turn the mood, he hovered in his living room, Shiro standing as uncertainly to his left.

“Do you want a drink?”

He’d already set off for the kitchen without waiting in hope to break the strange tension. 

“Wait!” Shiro caught him by the arm. “I…”

Keith turned back, finding Shiro fidgeting, looking down. “Can we...I...I know I said I wanted to but-”

“We don’t have to!” Keith interjected. 

“-can we take it slow?”

“Of course we can. We can watch a movie, or take Kosmo out, or if you want we can just talk.”

Shiro’s cheeks reddened, his fingers twitching around Keith’s arm.

“I meant...I meant maybe we don’t have to...Maybe I don’t have to…” 

Keith’s heart twisted at the distress evident in Shiro’s face. He wanted to help him but couldn’t tell what the other man actually wanted. 

“Take...Take off all my clothes.” Shiro swallowed.

Keith relaxed, warmth flooding him. Shiro wasn’t saying he didn’t want to, he was just not ready to show Keith all the ways the accident had changed him. 

“Shiro, I only want what you’re comfortable with. But I’d really, really like to make...to make you feel good.”

Shiro looked stunned and Keith took his hand, led him to the couch. With a gentle nudge, Shiro sat down. Eyes glued to his, searching for any sign of discomfort, he kneeled. He could see Shiro swallowing, his eyes widening a fraction.

“Tell me to stop, anytime. I don’t mind, Shiro. I only want what you want.”

A quick nod from the other man confirmed he’d heard. 

Setting his hands to Shiro’s knees, he heard the other man suck in a breath. The fabric, the hard warm muscle under his hands, the implications of it raced through him. At Shiro’s fantastic thighs, his confidence faltered.

Dropping his head, he tried to still his racing breaths a little. 

“Keith?”

The sensations were close to overwhelming. Arousal burned in his veins, tenderness and concern like he’d never known them pouring oil on the flames and nerves fanned the storm. Trying to separate and identify any one feeling was impossible and helplessly he could only  _ feel  _ as it raged through him. 

“I...I want this...so much, I can’t...I can’t think, I can’t breathe, I just…”

Something in Shiro seemed to snap and with a growl, he’d hauled Keith up and to him. He had no idea what sort of strength it’d take from that position but he was suddenly sitting astride his lap. Shiro pulled him down and into a kiss. Familiar territory allowed him a moment’s respite and the confusion of feelings sank away, leaving just the arousal. 

Shiro kissed him like they hadn’t seen each other in days, deep and surging. His large hands cupped Keith’s face and angled it, changing the kiss. Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro’s neck, an anchorage in a storm. If he let go, he’d just be swept along. 

Then Shiro canted his hips and Keith involuntarily broke the kiss, back arching, his head thrown back. A sound, both defenselessly aroused and surprised escaped him. The sensation of Shiro pressing up against him was more intense than anything they’d done so far.

Under him, Shiro’s eyes went wide and dark. With his lips parted and slick, he stared up at Keith in reverent wonder. With slow movements, he reached up and fisted Keith’s shirt in his hands, and with a calculated, perfect, cruelly blissful precision, he rolled his hips again.

The pressure was undirected and clumsy, courtesy of his jeans straining over his crotch but it was pressure. Once more, Keith’s back arched, his body greedy for more contact. Again and again, Shiro slowly canted his hips and watched as Keith tried to keep himself from shattering into a million little pieces. When Shiro stilled, his instinct kept him going, and with a hand twined into his own hair, he rode his hips. It was harder from this angle, but with his breaths racing, Keith searched for that same sensation of pressure again.

“Fuck, baby, you look so good right now.”

Shiro’s voice was pure gravel, ground out from his chest and rumbling in the little air between them. Keith whimpered, the tone and the words sliding down his spine like molten iron, white hot and heavy, pooling at his lower back, spreading into his stomach. 

Shiro’s hands slid from his shirt to his hips and with that brutal strength he began dragging Keith higher, while picking up the rolling of his hips again. His mind spun at the sensation that Shiro could just lift him, drag him, put him where he wanted. 

“Oh, God, I...ah!” 

He wanted to cry with the intensity of the feeling, wanted to let the frustration explode and recede. Staring down into Shiro’s eyes he saw the want mirrored. With shaking hands, Shiro fumbled with his fly and Keith’s and lost to the sensations, he could do nothing to help, just helplessly roll his hips, curses and pleas falling from his lips. When Shiro’s hand closed around him, his breath caught. With impatient moves, the large hand lined their cocks up and then moved, the touch relentless and hot. 

Keith’s brain blanked, all his senses zeroing in on the feeling of Shiro’s silky skin against his, the large hand wrapped around them both. 

“Shiro, Shiro, please, I...can’t...I’m…”

He couldn’t be coming already, it was embarrassing. The other man had barely touched him but in seconds the pressure had built too high, towered over him like a tidal wave about to crash down. 

“Shh, it’s okay.”

He realized a keening noise was escaping him, like a wounded animal and Shiro pulled him closer. 

“It’s okay, baby, just let go.”

With his eyes glued to Shiro’s, his mind whited out. The sensations were too much and the wave came crashing over him, swept him away. The weight of it pulled him down, down and under before launching him up, tossing him in a raging sea. And through it he felt Shiro’s strong arms wrapping around him, rocking him through it. 

When he came back to himself, his ears were ringing. Shiro’s arms were still wrapped around him, his lips pressed to his hair, just above his ear. Keith’s breaths were rattling and he could feel Shiro’s heartbeat jumping against his own. 

It took him a minute to recover enough to push himself from leaning his head on Shiro’s shoulder, to meet his eyes. The gray gaze was wide in wonder. 

“That...I…” The older man tried.

Keith just shook his head. There really weren’t any words. He’d never experienced an orgasm as intense as that one, and it had been from a hurried handjob on his couch. With Shiro. Even his dazed brain could make the connection that it wasn’t what they’d done, but that they’d been together. 

“You look...amazing, when you come.”

Keith felt the blush sweep over his cheeks. Not just from the words but from the knowledge that he had been absolutely gone, no thought to Shiro’s pleasure or anything else in the world. He had no idea how loud he’d been, or what he’d done and could only hope he hadn’t drooled or something equally unsexy. But meeting Shiro’s eyes, it looked like whatever he’d done had worked for him. The slate gray gaze was warm and tender, and his hand came up to caress his cheek. 

“I’m sure you do too, but I kind of missed it,” he admitted to Shiro. 

The older man chuckled. “I guess you’ll have to see it next time.”

“How about I get to see it now?” Keith wriggled a little in place and found his cock already twitching at the prospect. 

“You...you want to…?”

“I want to,” Keith confirmed and captured Shiro’s lips. 

In moments, the other man had gathered him closer with a groan. His hands ran up his back to wind into his hair. With a light tug on the strands, Keith leaned back with a moan. Shiro’s mouth travelled to the juncture between his neck and his shoulder and he shuddered. 

Eyes to the ceiling, he wondered if Shiro had some sort of direct access to his nervous system. Every nerve ending was lighting up like a Christmas tree. Desperate again in three seconds flat, Keith slithered back, sinking to his knees between Shiro’s spread legs once more.

“Can...Can I…?”

Shiro’s pupils were blown open as he nodded and Keith let go of his gaze. Finally getting a good look, he could see Shiro already half hard in front of him. He was big, like the rest of him, and it made a pulsing hollowness pick up inside Keith. He wanted it. He wanted it to split him open, spear into his depths, sate the emptiness inside. Swallowing, he leaned closer. The prize specimen of a cock in front of him bobbed and carefully, Keith took it in. Above him, Shiro groaned.

The sensation of it on his tongue, the girth and the weight of it had a hum escaping Keith. In response the length gained another full inch. Fully hard now, Keith could feel it pushing at his throat. Never happier he had practice enough to be able to impale himself on Shiro’s cock, he sank deeper, his nose touching his crotch. Shiro’s response was a garbled noise. It was by far the biggest Keith had ever tried and after the initial enthusiasm, he eased back, sinking back on it slower this time. It slid, the hot silky skin meeting his throat, and Keith never wanted to stop. Shiro’s hand rose to card into his hair and Keith moaned deep. Extrapolating from the noise, Shiro tugged experimentally and Keith’s hips jerked. He didn’t know what it was inside him that was responding but it was fundamental, beyond conscious reaction. His eyes had slid close and now he looked up through his bangs. The other man met his gaze, his mouth hanging slack as he used his hand to ease Keith up and down his length. 

“Christ, Keith, how...how are you so fucking good at this...I’ve...never…”

The sentence died out but the sentiment rolled through Keith, the praise heating his blood. Rolling heavy through his veins, he treasured it, felt it tingle under his skin. Helpless to resist, he slid a hand to palm himself. 

The sight of Shiro, gone to the world, every beautiful line of his body tensed to breaking was enough to drag Keith mercilessly to the edge. He wanted to spend eternity worshiping this man on his knees. The sensation he got from making Shiro feel good was like nothing he’d known before. An adoration bordering on slavish burned in his chest and tears were gathering in the corners of his eyes. Something had to be wrong with him. But if it was, then how could this miracle of a man allow him close? The dichotomy of feeling small and broken warred with being wanted, treasured and the confusion made his head spin.

“You’re...thinking too much...I can see it...Just...just let go, baby. Go with it, come on.”

And like that the chains snapped and Keith moaned brokenly, swallowing Shiro back so deep his eyes wanted to roll back in his head. Taking Shiro’s free hand in his, he put it to his throat gently. Shiro, somehow understanding what he was after, didn’t clench his hand or stop the little airflow he had. He just ran his fingers against the stretch of Keith’s throat, shuddering.

“Fuck, fuck, I can...I can feel it. I can feel it...in you...It’s...Baby, you’re amazing, you don’t even know, I…”

And so, without his hands even close to his own cock, Keith came. Bending at the waist, taking every inch of Shiro’s cock, riding nothing but air, he spent himself over his jeans. Shiro’s legs tensed, his hand involuntarily pulling Keith’s hair and then warmth spilled down inside him. 

When he slowly pulled back, he cleared his throat with a slight grimace. It was entirely his own fault, but his throat would be raw tomorrow. 

“Are you okay?”

Dazed, Keith looked up. “I...I think so…”

“Come here,” Shiro helped him up on the couch, wrapping his arm around his shoulders.

Keith, still feeling like he was floating above them where they sat, tried to make sense of the best sex of his life. And that he’d had it, giving a blow job.

“I’m…” He started but didn’t know what he wanted to say. His voice was raw. 

“Keith, I’m sorry if I took it too far. You just,” Shiro looked away. “You just looked so good and...and it seemed like you enjoyed it.”

“I did.” He knew that much, even if a lot of the rest was a confused tangle inside him. For a few moments he was silent. “Shiro, am I...is there something wrong with me?”

“What? Why?”

“I…” He pushed a hand through his hair. “That’s not normal. People don’t come from...from feeling like...from...I…”

“Easy, shh,” Shiro soothed, hearing Keith start to get anxious at not finding the words he wanted. “What...what did it feel like?” 

Backtracking, giving himself some more room in his mind, Keith tried again. “Like...like…” The shame built too high, his cheeks flushing and his eyes wanting to tear up. He stared at the floor in the opposite direction of Shiro. 

“Keith, listen to me.” He felt the couch shift under the other man when he moved, turning towards him. “That was the...the best sex I’ve ever had but if I upset you then I am so, so sorry.”

Then, despite the anguish in his voice, Shiro waited patiently. Keith could kiss him, if he hadn’t gotten all weird after they finished.

“I felt...I felt like you owned me. My soul, all of me. Like I’d do anything for you and I liked it. It’s...I’ve never…” 

Shiro’s arm around his shoulders tightened.

“That’s weird. I’m...It’s me, I’m messed up somehow.”

“Keith…” Shiro’s voice was soft. “Do you…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want to presume or put thoughts in your head but...You know how you told me you never feel very at ease, that you can’t find the words? That you’re always second guessing or trying to fit? Do you think that maybe...maybe your mind just wanted to let go of the control you impose on it all the time? It must be exhausting to always be doing that, to never feel like you can fully relax. Maybe now, here, this was you letting go of that control you always hold on to?”

“I…” Keith tried to let the words sink in, knowing Shiro would wait until they had. “It...did feel like a relief, whatever it was.”

“Do you…” Shiro still hadn’t made him look at him, just spoke quietly next to him, his arm never leaving his shoulders. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.” He didn’t even have to think about it and it surprised him.

“Then maybe...maybe that was what you felt? There is nothing weird or messed up about giving up control. I...I’m honored if that was how you felt, that you trusted me to take care of you, Keith.”

Grateful that somehow Shiro was better at putting words on his feelings than he was himself, he finally turned around.

“It is,” he breathed. “That’s how I felt.”

Shiro’s smile was filled with awe and wonder. His hand came up to caress Keith’s cheek. “You’re so...perfect.”

“I am?” Keith snorted. “You’re perfect, Shiro.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

The kiss they shared was slow, deep, conveying more acceptance than Keith had ever felt in his life. In the warm cocoon of intimacy, he spoke again.

“I’m...I’m not sure I...always want to...give up control. It was...pretty intense.”

Shiro nodded. “It looked intense. Don’t worry, Keith, I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Relaxing fully again for the first time since sometime earlier in the week, Keith sighed. “I think I’d like to go to bed,” he mumbled. He looked up. “Stay? Stay over with me?”

Shiro’s eyes warmed, the smile gentle and happy. “I would love to.”

**  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they just refuse to be simple, don't they? I had planned this much shorter and much more straightforward...


	9. Chapter 9

The morning light seeping in from the wrong side woke him. Realizing he wasn’t in his bed, his brain quickly caught up with the events of the previous night. He was in Keith’s bed, and the mechanic himself was curled up on his side next to him. Turning over and pulling him near, the younger man mumbled something and burrowed closer. 

Weeks of waiting had come to an end yesterday when they had managed a hurried handjob on the couch, before Keith had given him the best blowjob of his life. Shiro had never been one for sleeping around, but he had some experience and it had all paled in comparison to Keith. The most beautiful man he’d ever seen, plus some obvious hard earned skills, had still not been as arousing as the obvious pleasure Keith himself got from doing it. The combined factors had dragged Shiro close to the edge in moments rather than minutes. The little sounds Keith made when he sank down, how his hips rolled in what seemed like reflex outwith his control, the way his eyelids fluttered and how his lips looked stretched around his length, it was all beyond unbelievable. 

The way he’d helplessly, wordlessly asked Shiro to feel his throat had been the last straw. How was anyone supposed to hold onto themselves in the face of such naked want?

It wasn’t until after, while they talked, when he realized that perhaps despite his experience, there were things Keith wasn’t aware of. Like allowing someone else to take the reins. To let go and not think for a while. It was a staggering sign of trust from anyone. From Keith, it was little short of a miracle and Shiro still couldn’t quite believe he’d been deemed worthy of that trust. It was something he’d only ever allowed himself to think about after foraging in the murkiest part of his internet browsing history.

That Keith fitted so perfectly into what he dreamed of in his darkest, deepest, most private moments shouldn’t be so surprising to him. After all, the other man had been nothing but perfect since he met him. 

The heat that had been seething in the pit of his stomach spread through his limbs as his mind woke. Keith, sleeping in a t-shirt and sweats, had managed to find some clothes Shiro could fit into. He’d been grateful then Keith had wordlessly agreed to keep his clothes on as well, not mentioning that despite their heated sex, he still hadn’t seen much more of him undressed than before. Knowing it was unfair, Shiro still couldn’t help wishing he could see a lot more of the younger man. Right now he wanted to know just what Keith would look like naked in the morning light in painstaking detail. 

Painfully hard in his borrowed sweatpants, Shiro let his hand travel around Keith’s middle, stroking his chest, his waist. Edging to the waistband he could see an already obvious reaction. Leaning in, he whispered in Keith’s ear.

“Wake up, baby.”

Keith’s eyelids fluttered, and a frown appeared and cleared from his brow. Then his eyes opened and cleared. Lying on his side, Shiro missed whatever was in them at the moment he woke but an instant later, sensing Shiro’s hand, he’d tensed. Biting his lip, his hand travelled to join Shiro’s low on his stomach. Without hesitation, he pushed it past the waistband. Shiro sucked in a breath against the back of his neck. Keith was already hard and hot, the soft skin burning against his hand. His own cock twitched, the blood pounding. Pressing closer to Keith, he heard the other man sigh under his breath, hips canting. Shiro felt himself slot neatly between his ass cheeks and helplessly ground harder. Moving his hand gently, Keith’s breath trembled. Still spooning, he matched his hand movements to his hips and soon the younger man was panting under his ministrations. 

“Sh-Shiro, please…”

“What, baby? What do you want?”

He nuzzled the back of his neck and Keith almost sobbed.

“More, please, I...I want more, I need…”

The pleading tone almost undid him and quickly he rolled on top of Keith, letting his leg slide higher. Without hesitation, Keith slithered closer, jerking himself against Shiro. His hands scrabbled over Shiro’s back, his lips parted around panting breaths. 

“Take these off,” Shiro managed to say, his voice rough. 

Quickly, Keith pulled the t-shirt over his head, slithering out of his pants and tossing them aside. Breath knocked from his lungs, Shiro could only stare down at the marvel unveiled. 

Keith’s torso was slim and wiry and chiselled with a hard earned strength. Every nerve and muscle seemed to be on display, trembling and tensing under him. It gave an impression of delicacy despite the obvious strength. His legs, just as long and graceful as his jeans had hinted led to narrow hips, and a small waist. It was the body of a young god, just coming into his prime. Something like a wood nymph, a magical, bewitching being easily leading men astray from the path.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, not quite believing this was his for the taking. 

Keening, Keith pressed closer, obscuring the view and shaking Shiro from his stupor. 

“More, Shiro, I...need...Please…”

His cock, momentarily forgotten in his awe, jumped at the tone and heat slid down his spine to coil in his stomach. Suddenly the sensation of Keith, trusting him, wanting him, begging for him, made something inside him heal back into whole. 

“What do you need? Do you want me?”

Keith’s eyes flew open and his hands fisted in the sheets. “Yes!” His back arched off the bed, cock sliding up Shiro’s thigh. “Shiro, please, yes!”

Slowly, like he was feeling his way in a dark room, Shiro searched inside for the reticence, the feeling of wanting to curl up, to hide. He couldn’t find it. Like fumbling for something unpleasant in a dark basement that you didn’t want to find, he’d instead stumbled over the light switch. Like the light had come in inside him, he couldn’t feel the need to draw back, to keep Keith from seeing. So with trembling fingers he took Keith’s hands, pulled them from his back and leaned back. With slow movements he brought the other man’s hands to the hem of the shirt. 

Under him, Keith stopped undulating, watching him with wide eyes. He could see the pulse jumping in his throat but he stilled, held on to the hem.

“Shiro, are you sure? I don’t want to push you.”

The words were the key and the lock turned the last inch. With a smile, Shiro helped Keith pull the shirt up over his head. It was the first time anyone but his doctors saw him without his shirt in two and a half years. 

Searching Keith’s eyes, he saw nothing but stark need as the blue gaze roved over his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his stomach. He knew there were scars crisscrossing his torso, mottled flesh around the edge of the prosthesis, burns on the side that had still been in the car when the flames spread. But under him, Keith’s breath just stuttered, his eyes disbelieving. With a strength he hadn’t credited him, he bucked so they turned over, tumbling to the mattress. Keith sat straddling him, eyes glued to his chest.

“Can..Can I…?”

His hands reached out and Shiro nodded quickly. All the wounds were long since healed, even though the angry red of some of the scars still burnt brightly against the pale skin.

The hands he’d admired so many times came to rest on his shoulders, stroking. Shaking slightly, they ran across his pecs, the dips of his ribs. 

“I…” Keith looked lost above him, hands gently roaming over his torso.

“What is it?”

“I...want...I want to be sensitive, Shiro, I want to say the right thing but...all I can think right now is that...you’re so fucking hot.”

Keith didn’t lie. He didn’t know whatever platitude he was supposed to lay on Shiro. All he could say was what was in his head. It soothed more than any well-thought out speech, any words about how the scars added to him, were part of him and his story. Keith just saw them as him, not as an addition or change to how Shiro had been. And he thought what he saw was hot. 

It was Shiro’s turn to rear up and flip them over as his lips met Keith’s hungrily. Keith wrapped his arms around his shoulders and clung to him, his tongue ravishing him. The sensation of skin against skin was almost more than Shiro could stand. It had been so long. So long since someone touched his bare skin and wanted him. So long since he’d let someone even try. 

The calloused hands roved over his back, slid between them to caress Shiro’s shoulders, his chest. Desperate now, Shiro broke the kiss but couldn’t stop his hips continuing to roll against Keith’s. 

“Lube?” he grated.

The young mechanic’s eyes were unseeing under him but he gestured to the night stand. To reach, Shiro couldn’t support his weight on his arms and he let his weight press Keith down into the mattress. The other man didn’t seem to mind but simply let out a shuddered breath. Every inch of them were pressed together. Kissing Keith again, feeling like he’d been away for years not seconds, he felt the other man tense under him. Breaking the kiss in askance, he saw Keith’s eyes roll back and felt his back arch before telltale warmth met his stomach. 

Surprised, he lifted himself back up. Under him, Keith was returning to himself.

“‘m…I’m…” he cleared his throat. “Sorry. About that.”

“Sorry?” Shiro blinked. “Why?”

Keith blushed. “For, you know...it was quick. I didn’t mean to.”

Tenderness like he’d never known it melted his heart. “Keith,” he spoke and his voice seemed to hold the warmth he felt. “It’s...amazing. I can’t believe I can...you can...I can’t believe you’re able to.”

“I’m not! Not normally, it’s just...It’s  _ you _ .”

Warmth that was both arousal and tenderness swept through him. “How is that supposed to make me feel anything but incredible? If...If it’s me, if I’m the one doing this to you, then I...I frankly can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” Keith muttered. “You’re too hot. And you pinned me to the bed and I...It’s unfair.” 

He pouted a little and Shiro chuckled. “Come on, baby. You’re not alone, feel what you do to me,” he said and rolled his hips against Keith again. “See?”

Keith’s breaths tripped a little. He shifted on the bed, then something sly crept into his eyes.

“So where did you put that lube?”

“You…” Surprise washed through him. “You still want to?”

One of those smiles Keith saved just for him spread slowly over his face. His knees fell to either side in invitation, as his hands came to rest on Shiro’s shoulders.

“I want you, Shiro.”

“Christ,” was all he could manage as his head fell to Keiths shoulder. “You’re going to kill me.”

“I think you can manage.”

The hard-on he’d almost managed to ignore for a minute pulsed and with a long kiss, he slithered down Keith’s body to settle between his spread legs. 

“You’re sure?”

Keith nodded and Shiro dared to look down. A hot wave of desire shot through him at the sight of Keith lying naked and waiting for him, his legs parted. The furrowed opening seemed to beckon him and the beautiful curved cock was already showing signs of life again. 

Opening the lube, he began spreading the liquid on his left hand. 

“Shiro, you’re right handed.”

“Hmm?” He looked up, having been engrossed in the task.

“I said, you’re right handed. Why are you doing that to your left hand?”

The truth was it was habit and it slipped out of him before he could stop it. “Adam didn’t like the…”

He cut himself off. Discussing his ex while he had another man under him was a serious mood killer.

Keith sat up, hands coming to rest on Shiro’s shoulders. “I can guess the rest. Shiro, it doesn’t matter to me. They’re both your hands, and I want them on me, and...in me. Whichever one is easiest for you.”

His heart skipped a beat at Keith’s words, seeing the cost of holding his gaze while he said it. 

Technology had come far and Shiro’s right arm and hand had sensory feedback. It had always been Adam’s obvious distaste for the prosthesis that had kept him from using it, not that it wasn’t as proficient - if not more - than his real hand. And Keith was right, even though he was fairly good at using his left hand now due to the time when he hadn’t had the prosthesis yet, he was still right handed. 

With a trembling left hand, he spread the lube evenly over the polymers of his right hand fingers. Keith gave him a searing kiss, before lying back down again. Slipping closer, Shiro watched Keith’s face as he slid his first finger in to the second knuckle. His lips parted, his eyes fluttering close and a short sigh escaped him. Trying desperately not to think too much of how warm and tight the other man felt around his finger, he started moving it. Exploring gently, he watched for every facet of emotion flitting over Keith’s face. Like sun dappling through leaves, emotions crossed his features. Soon he’d found at least three spots that teased gasps from the younger man. 

After adding a second finger, Keith’s cock filled and rose again and the view made it hard for Shiro to keep his pace. Above him, Keith had fisted his hands into his hair and was riding his fingers, moans of pleasure spilling over his lips. 

Even though he wanted to take his time, he didn’t think he could watch the scene for much longer without spilling himself. Taking a chance, he lined up a third finger, easing it in.

“That’s it, baby, open up for me. You look so good right now, swallowing me up.”

The response was immediate as Keith arched up, and his third finger slipped in next to the others. 

“Yes, just like that. Look at how good you are, taking it.”

The mechanic’s breaths started heaving out of him, his hips rolling relentlessly, sucking Shiro’s fingers deeper. Moans and pleas were rushing past his lips like a prayer. Keith’s cock jumped, curving against gravity, jutting high. Shiro couldn’t resist such an invitation and he took him in, sliding his lips over the head. Above, Keith let out a shout, involuntarily canting his hips. Shiro felt his lover’s cock slide deeper and he let out a moan in return. 

“Shiro, please, please...I...Now, I need you now…”

“Just a little more, baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Now! Shiro, please!”

Glad that they’d had a talk early on about unromantic but necessary topics like STD testing, Shiro left the condoms he’d seen in the bedside drawer where they were. Scurrying up, he slipped his fingers from Keith’s entrance and slicked up his cock, not caring that lube ended up dripping all over the bed. Desperation was clawing inside him and he had to take a deep breath, then another, to not just slam into that warm, welcoming heat. Instead he lined himself up, and began bearing down. 

In moments, the head slipped in and a curse escaped Shiro. It was so impossibly, fantastically tight. Under him, Keith was babbling, rolling his hips and pressing Shiro closer. But he knew he had to be careful and just kept up the same slow, relentless pressure. Sweat broke out on his back around the halfway point. 

“Please,” Keith almost sobbed under him. “Shiro, please, I won’t break. I need you.”

His self control could only take so much. Hearing it snapping in two, he pulled out and then slammed back in place. Keith let out a strangled noise but it wasn’t in pain. Then he didn’t hear anything over the roaring in his head. Again and again he slammed into that tight, grasping heat. Keith was clinging to him, his heels pushing against Shiro’s lower back like they’d never get close enough. Watching the other man’s face, the pleasure slackening his jaw, the tension in his body as he strove for the relief he craved, he marveled. The tell tale tingling was already starting in Shiro’s abdomen at the sight. 

Grasping Keith’s arms, he locked them over his head. 

“Look at me. Look at me, Keith.”

The blue gaze flitted open, unseeing and with pupils blown wide. 

“Feel what I’m doing to you, baby, can you tell me? What do you feel?”

A keening, stuttering breath punctured every time Shiro’s hips snapped forward answered him, before Keith found his voice, raspy and wrecked.

“You...feel...you feel so big, it’s...splitting me open, I’m...so close, just feeling it… I need…”

“What do you need?” Shiro could feel control leaving him, his back muscles trembling with the attempt to hold on to it. 

“Tell me...Tell me you...For you…”

Shiro thought he vaguely understood. “You feel so good, baby. It’s like you were fucking made to take my cock.”

The reaction erupted. Keith reared up, curses and begging spurting from his lips. The move made Shiro lose his footing on the bed and he sank all the way to the hilt into Keith. His own release raced through him like a forest fire, razing everything in its path. Heat swallowed him, burnt him from within until everything old was ash. Left weak and shaky like a newborn, he wondered if his brain was making a ringing noise or if it was something in the real world that he had left behind. 

Need sated for the minute, he tried to get up. His muscles protested so instead he just rolled them over. Keith moaned weakly, lying spread out on top of him. 

Breath slowed enough to talk, he could eloquently say “Holy fuck.”

A chuckle reverberated through Keith.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” came the lazy response from above.

“We should get up. Make breakfast.”

“In a bit. Just relax for a second.”

“Okay.” He shifted, started to pull out from the heat still sheathing him.

“No, stay.”

“What?”

He couldn’t see Keith’s face but he could feel the heat of the blush against his chest. “Stay in me. Just a little while longer.”

“Oh, Christ.” His tired cock valiantly tried to twitch. “You are trying to kill me.”

Keith laughed softly above him. “No, I just like how you feel inside me.”

A hum of desire pushed through the haze and was almost painful in the oversensitivity of the afterglow. But Shiro didn’t pull out. 

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

Shiro might have mentioned breakfast earlier but it was close to noon before either of them left the bed. Keith had fallen asleep for half an hour, draped over Shiro, and had woken up with him still inside. The thought had chased such a hot wave of arousal through him, he’d almost gasped out loud. He could tell from Shiro’s heartbeat under his ear, he was still asleep and it only added to the sensation. Letting his hand trail the edges of where they were joined he felt soft and loose and wet. Biting his lip, he’d started moving, miniscule tilts to his hips but in minutes, he could feel Shiro’s reaction. Hardening inside him, Keith almost wept in gratitude. He’d never had anything as big as Shiro inside him but after the initial discomfort, it had been mind-blowing. His cock seemed to reach so deep, touching everything inside him at once. A groan at the thought of how hard and deep Shiro had fucked him earlier woke the other man. Keith could tell because he gasped right in his ear. 

Sitting up, he felt the angle shift and spread him deeper. Shiro was staring up at him with a look of awestruck wonder and basking under it, Keith began to move. Slow, languorous movements, taking Shiro all the way to the hilt with every thrust. Shiro’s hands came to rest on his hips, helping him rise and fall and he picked up the pace. By the time they finished, he was holding on to the headboard, slamming himself down with all he had, sweat pouring in rivulets down his back. Breaths stilling slowly, he finally rose off of Shiro’s cock. A warm rush between his legs told him he needed a shower but something else, something deeper, relished in the debauched feeling. 

“You,” Shiro breathed. “Are absolutely amazing.”

Keith smiled, something that was coming easier and easier with Shiro around.

“So are you.”

When Shiro returned his smile where he lay, stark naked in Keith’s bed, he was really happy it was the weekend and no one would need him to be anywhere until Monday. 

They made pancakes together in Keith’s kitchen, and they took Kosmo for a walk along a trail where Keith was sure they wouldn’t meet anyone. They watched a game in the afternoon, at least until they were too distracted by each other to do more than let it be the soundtrack to lovemaking on the couch. They had dinner and pretended to be tired early to go back to bed and do it again. When he fell asleep the second night in a row with Shiro next to him, Keith couldn’t really believe his luck.

**  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait - RL distractions have been distracting!


	10. Chapter 10

Coming in to work on Monday, Kolivan had done a double take when he saw him. He hadn’t said anything but he’d kept looking at him like he had something stuck to his face and couldn’t figure out the best way to say it.

It was Lance who finally did point it out when Keith joined them for Thursday drinks.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

Assuming Lance was leading up to one of his lame jokes, Keith didn’t respond but shrugged his jacket off and sat.

“Seriously. What’s up with it? Pidge,” he elbowed the woman next to him who was busy discussing the chemistry of baking with Hunk, versus the man’s “I just go by feeling” statement. It was a long standing discussion topic in the group. 

“What?”

Lance nodded to Keith. “His face. It’s different. What is it?”

Pidge looked, then her eyes narrowed. “It  _ is  _ different.”

Keith’s heart sank. If Pidge agreed, they wouldn’t change topics until the two of them had dissected every possible change, he was sure. Lance and Pidge were like terriers when it came to figurings things out.

Hunk, for once sitting at a table with them, smiled from his corner. “Guys, he just looks happy.”

“No, it’s…” Lance trailed off, scanning Keith’s face. “No. You’re right. You’re not scowling!” He pointed accusingly at Keith. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You so do. You always look like someone’s stolen the last cookie in the jar from you.”

“What? I do not.” Keith crossed his arms. 

“Mullet, I’ve known you since before I could walk. You looking happy is news. What gives?”

“Nothing gives,  _ Officer _ , just drop it.”

“You had sex with the vet, didn’t you?”

Keith, who’d just sipped his newly arrived beer, coughed on it. “What? You...I’m…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I can totally tell. No wonder you look happy. Does it match the rest of him, you know, the size thing cause I’ve always wondered if…” He trailed off in the face of Keith’s unimpressed gaze. “Fine,” he muttered. “Don’t kiss and tell, be a spoilsport.”

“I’m happy for you,” Hunk said, putting a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “It looked like you were having a good date the other day.”

“It was. Thank you for helping with it.”

“Anytime,” Hunk beamed. 

They’d only had time for a few more rounds of insults before the door opened and Shiro stepped in, followed by Allura. Keith felt the world shrink into darkness, the only light focussed solely on Shiro. He didn’t have the attention to see Hunk and Pidge watch him and Lance stare in amusement. Pidge was the one to wave them over.

All Keith saw was Shiro turning, then his eyes landing on his friends, before reaching him. The light in the gray gaze brightened, and a smile slid easily over the handsome features. God, Keith couldn’t believe he’d had those eyes on him only days ago while Shiro moved inside him. Heat, gilded by something easy and happy and uncomplicated - pleasure at seeing him, he realized, flared in his stomach. 

Shiro and Allura reached them and Shiro bent down, Keith’s face automatically tipping back. Kissing him in greeting, in a much shorter and briefer way than Keith would prefer, he then straightened again.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.”

“It’s a standing appointment,” Pidge announced. “We’re here every Thursday.”

“Well, I won’t interrupt your time with your friends,” Shiro smiled. Keith didn’t really register too much except for that Shiro’s hand was on his shoulder. 

Pidge came to his rescue. “Not at all, we’re caught up already. You and Dr Lyon should stay.”

“Please, call me Allura.”

“Allura. I’m Pidge, and this is Hunk, and,” Keith could tell she kicked Lance under the table. “Lance.”

Lance woke from staring dazedly and cleared his throat. The “hi” still came out squeaky. 

“Is that okay? We don’t want to intrude.”

Shiro’s eyes searched his and Keith solved the question by pulling him down by his sleeve to sit next to him.

Lance shuffled like a crab hunted by an eagle to make enough space for Allura to sit next to him. Squeezed into the booth, Allura and Shiro soon had drinks. Lance was talking loudly, describing in elaborate detail his work day and how important it was. Allura was nodding politely, sipping her white wine. Hunk and Pidge had picked up the chemistry of baking discussion once more.

Shiro leaned in and Keith caught a whiff of his after shave. It made his pulse points start hammering.

“Are you sure this is okay? I don’t want to intrude on your time with your friends.”

“Shiro, you’re my friend too. I’d like you to get to know them.”

The older man relaxed fully and a smile so bright it could have powered the bar for a week lit his face.

“I’d love to get to know them.”

Soon, he’d taken up a firm position in the chemistry of baking discussion. He was with Pidge as he couldn’t cook anything without a microwave. Allura pitched in, siding with Hunk, describing she could “just feel” when the souffles she made were ready. Lance, who had never been interested in this particular topic before, sided vehemently with Allura. 

“Keith, what about you?” Pidge asked. 

“You know my mom could burn water. And my dad can make anything by improvising. What if it’s not a truth for baking but true for the person?”

The group stilled, looking lost for a second. Keith realized he might have put an end to the group’s involving topic. Trying to think of something to start the conversation again, Shiro piped up.

“What about in your job, Pidge, it’s all based on empirical evidence but don’t you sometimes get a feeling for what you  _ think  _ is right?”

Pidge had to grudgingly admit she did, and the conversation moved to when in their various professions they could sense something. Lance claimed he had an infallible “gut feeling” for who was guilty. Pidge returned all his gut told him was when he was hungry. The two friends fell into good natured ribbing.

Hunk, used to hearing it, simply talked over it. “You know, Keith can hear what’s wrong with a car just by listening to the engine.”

“Hunk, that’s not-”

“Really?” Shiro turned wide eyes on Keith. The adoration in them was so plain Keith had to swallow a lump in his throat. For keeping Shiro looking at him like that he’d attempt to fix every single car that came his way blindfolded.

“Sometimes,” he muttered. 

“He knew my car was broken before I did. Said he heard the exhaust making noise but to me it sounded just like normal.”

“It sounded like you were trying to choke five hundred bull frogs in the pipe.”

Hunk laughed. “See? Magic.”

Shiro smiled so the corners of his eyes creased. “He certainly is.”

A double set of “awwws” picked up, one sincere from Allura and one sarcastic from Lance.

Pidge, whose sixth sense certainly tingled when she knew her friend was about to say something dumb, elbowed Lance in the side to pre-empt it and turned to Allura.

“So, Allura, what’s your superpower?”

“It’s sleeping after having six espressos,” Shiro said helpfully and the blonde grimaced at him. 

Keith marvelled at how easily Shiro interacted with each of his friends. He seemed so at ease, whether he was speaking or listening. He got a little distracted just watching him rather than actually follow the conversation so when Allura leaned closer, she had to give him a little nudge to catch his attention. 

“I don’t know if you know what a change it is, but Shiro wore a tank top to the gym this morning. He hasn’t done that since the accident. So whatever it is you’re doing, keep on doing it.”

Keith’s mind happily supplied him with an image of what Shiro’s built torso would look like in a tank, wide shoulders and strong arms on display.

“A...tank top.” His voice wasn’t a question even though it did slide higher at the end. His fingers tightened involuntarily around his beer. 

Allura chuckled across from him. “Ah. I can see what it is you do. Just like that,” she smiled. 

Then she tilted her head, smile dying. “That’s not to say you’re in the clear here, I am watching you and if you dare hurt a literal or metaphorical hair on my best friend’s head, I will kill you and send you to the animal crematory in boxes with cutesy names and your body will never be found.”

As he had delivered that speech himself at various times he knew it came from the heart. Taking it seriously, he nodded.

“Noted.”

Allura looked approving at this and her beautiful features softened again. 

“He really likes you, you know.”

“I really like him too.”

It was easy to admit, even to a stranger. It was after “like” things got complicated for Keith. People tended to expect things from him, and he knew there was some sort of widely accepted schedule or time frame for when people moved on from “like” to…”love”. Keith had never crossed that bridge and he wasn’t sure he was even built for it. Instead of pondering if this was the time, he let himself be distracted by watching Shiro’s face and hands while he spoke to his friends.

**  
  
**

o.O.o

**  
  
**

Keith opened the door to find three mini firemen on his porch.

“Trick or treat!” They chorused.

“Ah…” Keith had completely forgotten today was Halloween. He’d spent a murderous day completely overhauling a Ford Fiesta’s engine and it had been hard work. If it had occurred to him to go to the store, it wouldn’t have crossed his mind to buy candy. 

The faces below him looked quizzical, quickly falling.

“I’m…”

Suddenly Shiro appeared at the bottom of the drive and even in the dark of the evening, Keith could make out the bright colours of king size candy packs. 

“He’s got the candy,” he pointed to him.

The kids looked very relieved and raced down towards Shiro. He could see the large man bending down, offering something from a bag. Vaguely he heard him exclaim over the firemen costumes. The exchange took a few minutes and then Shiro finished his walk up the drive. Keith leaned against the door jamb, waiting for him. 

“My hero.”

Shiro laughed. “I know you never have candy in the house. You weirdo.”

That word had hurt before. When it was uttered in Shiro’s voice, tenderly and with a smile, for no other reason than that the other man had a huge sweet tooth and Keith didn’t, it warmed the roots of his heart.

He leaned in for a kiss that was both brief and chaste, keeping in mind a potential young audience. 

“I’d completely forgotten today was Halloween,” Keith admitted.

“Why did you think I was texting you the ghost emoji?”

“I didn’t know. I thought it was some modern cultural reference I’d missed.”

Shiro laughed again, and handed the candy to Keith. “Well, I think you should put that in a bowl and then settle in for two to three hours of opening the door every ten minutes.”

“I know how it works, I’d just forgotten it was today.”

“Yeah?”

They headed into the living room, Keith continuing into the kitchen to fetch a bowl. 

“Did you go when you were a kid?”

“A few times,” Keith returned with the bowl.

“What did you go as?”

“One year we went as the Ghost Busters. I was Spengler. And one year I was a Transformer. My dad helped me build a costume out of cardboard so if I crouched down I was a Lotus and if I stood, a badass robot.”

“Wow,” Shiro popped a sweet from the bowl into his mouth. “That sounds amazing.”

“Did you go?”

“Yeah, a few times. Nothing as inventive as that. I was Superman one year, and a knight one year. The last time I think I went as a doctor.”

All heroes, Keith thought. Shiro had some deep-seated need to be helpful, to take care of. It scared Keith, made him wonder if that was why Shiro liked him. Because he thought Keith needed saving. 

The door interrupted his thoughts and Shiro sprang to his feet. He looked almost as excited as the kids outside at the prospect of trick or treaters. 

Opening the door, there was this time a fairy, an astronaut, a dragon and...it had to be Spongebob. 

“Trick or treat!”

Shiro, immediately in conversation with the kids, talked about their costumes, their haul so far, which house had the best candy, which one had the best decorations. The children chatted animatedly. The astronaut was sending Shiro’s prosthesis long looks and Keith glared at him but the boy didn’t notice. 

Eventually Shiro took notice of the long stare. “Cool, huh?”

He held out the metal arm, turning it.

The astronaut nodded. Keith now realized the boy hadn’t spoken yet, clearly the shyest out of the bunch. 

“It’s like Bucky’s,” he almost whispered.

Shiro smiled so the corners of his eyes creased. 

“Just like it,” he agreed.

“Can you flip a car with it, mister?” The fairy asked while munching on a gummy worm.

Keith snorted and Shiro laughed. “No, not really. But it is strong.”

“Can you lift Thor’s hammer with it?”

Keith felt at ease enough to join the conversation. “He totally can. He’s mega strong. He could lift any one of you with one hand.”

“Whaaat?” The kids chorused as one. 

Shiro’s ears were red and Keith had rarely seen anything more adorable. He was also pretty sure Shiro could lift them one handed since he easily lifted Keith. Stopping his mind from heading down that particularly delightful path, he watched as Shiro demonstrated the strength of the prosthetic arm by having two children cling to it and lifting. The delighted shrieks of disbelief echoed in the night. 

By the time the last knock before it had to be bed time had sounded, Keith and Shiro slumped on the couch. Shiro’s arm was around his shoulders and Keith leaned his head against his shoulder.

“You don’t mind it?”

“Mind what?” Shiro’s breath was warm against his hair. 

“The kids, asking about your arm.” 

“No, not really.” He sighed lightly. “It’s the adults that are harder. Children take things at face value, they’re immediate. I can see people wanting to ask, I can hear the weird ways they go about it when they do. It just hammers it home that I’m different, that they feel they have to change their behaviour for me. That I’m lacking, pitied. Kids, they tend to just think a bionic arm is cool, and say so.”

Keith could understand. He’d felt pretty at ease speaking to the children. They didn’t expect him to behave politely or make sense. It was a freeing sensation. 

“It is cool.” He tipped his head back. “And they’re too young to know it but it’s really sexy.”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Keith confirmed. “Just like Bucky.”

They were laughing as they navigated themselves horizontal on the couch. 

**  
  
  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I am majorly distracted by playing an awesome game right now so my writing time has plummeted...Here's something to keep you going anyway :D


	11. Chapter 11

The snow came out of nowhere, and waking up to the extra bright bedroom, Shiro peered outside. Everything was swaddled in piles of snow, and every vague sound he could hear muffled. Padding downstairs, he opened the door to let Kosmo out and the big dog raced past him, joyfully throwing himself into the snow. Laughing, he stood to watch him. 

After a few minutes, Keith appeared, hair mussed and coffee in hand. Offering it, Shiro glanced at him with a smile but didn’t speak. Like Allura, Keith was not a fan of mornings. He was wrapped in an old blanket over t-shirt and shorts, and unlike Shiro, he had remembered to put on at least some socks on before standing in the doorway to the cold. He looked adorable. Turning his head back to focus on the dog, Shiro let the feeling of comfort and ease seep through him along with the caffeine.

“‘S early,” were Keith’s first words of the day. 

“Yeah,” Shiro agreed.

“Why are you up?”

“I think the light from the snow woke me. And I think Kosmo could sense the snow too, he came and stared at me in longing for going out.”

Keith snickered. “He suckered you. He knows you’re a softie.”

Shiro laughed. “Am I now? And his dad’s not?”   
  
“No way. He’d never get me out of bed before nine on a weekend. He knows that.”

“Then why are you out of bed?”

Keith mumbled something.

“Sorry?”

The narrow hands tightened around the blanket and the red coffee mug. Bangs fell forward to hide the indigo gaze.

“Lonely.” Keith cleared his throat. “The bed was lonely.”

A ravine opened in front of his feet. Everything quaked and heaved and then the ground in front of him gave way to a steep drop. His feelings, held up by support structures of excuses he’d been telling himself crumbled and disappeared into the deep. He knew exactly what he had in front of him and it scared and awed him. It was the drop to the fall. If he lost his footing, or if he took the step himself, he would fall irreparably and irrevocably for Keith. 

Shiro wasn’t a man who fell easily. In his life he’d been in love twice. The first time had been a huge, unresolved crush on one of the boys in high school. The second had been Adam. 

And now there was Keith.

He was unsure that he was ready to trust again. Once, he’d have thrown himself off that cliff edge, relished in the free fall, the exhilaration and the tingling stomach. But now he also knew what happened when you met the ground, how it shattered you into a million pieces and when you put yourself back together again, you didn’t exactly recognize the result. How it turned you into a zombie, unable to feel or think about anything else, the day turning into just a slog. 

What would have once delighted him and lifted him, now terrified him.

In reply to Keith’s admission, he lifted his arm. Easily the shorter man slid closer, wrapped his arm around Shiro’s waist. Resting his cheek against the mechanic’s hair, he breathed in the scent of his soap. 

“This…” Shiro searched for words. The ones that came were hopelessly inadequate. “This is nice.”

“It is,” Keith responded. “Do you want to try out your new hiking gear today? We’re up early enough to make it around the Granton trail before dark.”

Open spaces, quiet, stunning views and a lot of fresh air. It sounded like just what he needed. How had Keith known?

“I’d love to.”

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


Keith wasn’t entirely sure what had made Shiro quieter than normal today but for once in his life, he wasn’t fretting about it. The other man would tell him if he wanted to, and he trusted that it wasn’t something he himself had done to provoke it. It wasn’t like he seemed sad, though he did sometimes struggle to tell. He was more...pensive. Lost in his thoughts. And this was the place to let yourself, Keith thought. 

The trail wasn’t very challenging, the incline gentle as it looped around the mountain about halfway up the peak. It wouldn’t take them more than four or five hours before they were back at the car. And until then they had the freshly fallen snow glistening and throwing reflections back at the blue sky. The sun beamed, warm enough to heat his face but not melting the snow. It was a perfect fall day for a hike. 

After Shiro had admitted he had never been hiking, Keith had happily supplied him with a list of what he’d need and he was now walking along in brand new boots and a small hiking backpack. Every once in a while, he stopped to take in the view or to snap a picture. Keith had expected this to annoy him as he normally hiked alone but found he didn’t mind stopping. It gave him a chance to stare at Shiro while Shiro looked at the view. 

“It’s amazing,” the vet breathed.

Keith nodded in agreement, but it was more to do with how perfect he thought Shiro’s jawline was than the view of the river like a dropped silver ribbon below. 

It had been strange this morning to wake up and actually miss the body next to his in the bed. Usually he didn’t like sharing his space, slept badly with anyone else next to him. But with Shiro, he’d woken up because he missed his warmth, the weight of him. It was a weird sensation and he’d need some time alone to ponder exactly what it meant to miss someone when they were a few yards away. For now, he was happy to numb the annoying, looping worries with watching Shiro on his first hike.

At the highest point of the trail, Shiro insisted they took a picture. Keith had never liked having his picture taken but the other man looked so excited at the prospect of documenting their effort, he couldn’t say no. After it had been snapped, Shiro sent it to him and Keith opened the attachment. The picture of the two of them, the view spreading out behind them loaded on his phone. Shiro looked happy, beaming at the camera. The sunlight and the lens had lovingly conspired to show him off to full advantage. He looked nothing short of perfect. 

Next to him in the shot was Keith, who had to narrow his eyes to squint closer when he saw it. He’d expected to look warm, sullen and small next to Shiro. But in the photo he looked...not half bad. He was smiling, which he never did in staged photos - his mom had a few stern-looking ones taken by the school photographer on the wall - and his eyes were bright. He looked windblown and healthy and...happy. 

“It’s...a good picture.”

“It is.”

“And you look great in it, as always and I…” Keith looked down again, couldn’t quite believe it. “I don’t look too bad.”

Shiro chuckled. “Understatement of the century.” His eyes softened. “Do you know what I see when I look at you?” He didn’t wait for Keith to answer. “You’re so beautiful, Keith. I love your hair, the way it falls, how you pull it back into a ponytail all matter of fact like it isn’t the sexiest thing ever. I see your eyes, the colour of them that doesn’t seem to be of this world. They change with the light, with your mood. Like the sea.”

His fingers had travelled from his hair, to just under his eyes, then moved again. 

“Your lips, the way they’re formed, how they set when you’re annoyed, how they spread so slowly when you smile. I see your shoulders, all wide and straight, and how they bunch when you’re tense. I love how they relax when I’m the only one there. I can’t believe I get to touch your skin, your chest, your waist.”   
  


His warm hands were resting at his waist, fingers reaching so far around Keith was immediately enveloped in safety. 

“It’s like being allowed to touch an otherworldly creature. Your skin is so soft but your body is anything but. I love watching how you shiver or tense when I touch you, see your muscles trembling under your skin. It’s...intoxicating. Your hips, how delicate they are, your legs - they’re so long and graceful. When they’re wrapped around me I feel like I could combust. Every single thing about you is beautiful, Keith.”

Throughout his speech, Keith was trying to catch his breath. He’d been told off hand that he was “hot” or had a “banging ass” but the words Shiro was speaking weren’t only about the aesthetics of his being, it was about him. How he bunched his shoulders when he was tense or set his lips when he was annoyed. These weren’t his genetic lottery at play but traits inherent to him and his being. And Shiro found them beautiful. It was headier than anything else. 

Shiro, who put Greek gods to shame, thought he was as beautiful as Keith did him. It was a wonder in and of itself. Had he had the words, he would have laid similar ones on him. Instead all the words were struggling under a cork in his throat. He swallowed again and again, the pressure like that of champagne. Fizzing bubbles just racing through his blood, wanting to explode out of him and paint the world with his joy. Life just couldn’t be perfect enough to give him someone like Shiro. Someone who saw him and didn’t turn away but wanted to look closer. Someone who liked all the things that made him him, inside and out. 

While compliments had never sat well with him, he trusted Shiro enough to know he would only tell him the truth, only say those words if they were the ones in his mind. The feeling was exhilarating. 

Out of words to respond, Keith pressed close and kissed Shiro. Just a simple, hard press of lips to try and convey the gratefulness. 

o.O.o

  
  
  


The Monday arrived with melted snow, freezing rain and black ice. As Shiro carefully maneuvered the steps to the clinic, he could feel winter wasn’t far off. Once inside he peeled off his already wet jacket, gloves and scarf, then beelined for his friend’s office. Opening the door, he announced,

“Allura, I think I’m in love with Keith.”

He had delivered the news with the inflection of the awe and the apprehension he felt. His friend, bent over a blood test under the microscope on her desk, hummed.

“That’s nice,” she responded, still bent over the contraption.

“Nice?” Shiro threw his hands up. “It’s not nice, Allie, I can’t fall for someone. It’s…” He sat down on a box of horse antibiotics that had been delivered that morning and they had yet to put away. “It’s too early, it’s a dumb idea to picture a future with someone in a town you’ve just moved to. What if I want to move? What if he wants to move? What if he doesn’t feel the same and I tell him I’m in love with him and then we break up and I have to see him almost every day because this town is so damn small?”

At some point during his rant, Allura straightened and tuned in properly. 

“I’m sorry, Shiro, I wasn’t listening when you came in. I think there’s a staph infection going around the Nelson farm.” She sat down across on an actual office chair. “I know it’s hard but I think you’re thinking about this the wrong way. Could you have imagined just a few weeks ago that you were capable of feeling like this again?”

Shiro shook his head. A few weeks ago he’d imagined himself, alone, continuing to pick up the pieces of who he had been. Romance had been far down on the list of things he was looking for. The break up with Adam had left scars as deep as the ones on his body. There had been no possible future where he had pictured he would already be able to fall for someone else.

Others may think that three years was a long time to get over someone but for Shiro, his commitment to Adam had been complete. He had seen them together forever, had invested all of himself in the union. The accident had been like a part torn out between them, making the pieces jagged, raw, and they hadn’t been able to make them fit again. Holding on to the promise they’d made each other only made it harder, gave them more chances to hurt. But for someone who took giving his word seriously, it had been a horrendous process to tear himself away. It had taken him months and months to start piecing himself together and he was aware that despite the hours in therapy, he had strides still to make.

And yet, there in the middle of it all was Keith. 

Unplanned and unexpected yet feeling like he had never been without him in his life. The surprise lay more in how easy it had been, that he  _ could  _ fall than in the fact it was Keith. That held no surprise at all. How could anyone meet the young mechanic and not see everything that he was, everything that made him so utterly entrancing to Shiro? 

From the first lighting strike at the sight of his face, to the learning of the walls and the edges he held inside. The slow climb past those walls that had led to that first smile, the one that still radiated through his mind. He’d found a man who looked like he’d sneer at you from a rock album but who had a heart that cared deeper than anyone he’d ever met.

No, the wonder was all because Shiro hadn’t thought he was ready, hadn’t thought he really could feel so completely for another person again.

“Maybe. I...I’m scared, Allura. I don’t know if I can…”

His friend put her hand on his shoulder, leaned closer so the scent of her perfume reached him. 

“Shiro, it’s always frightening. When it matters, it’s always scary. But that’s how you know it’s worth it.”

He knew it. But sometimes hearing it from someone else was what made you slip the last inch to the understanding.

“How come you got to be so smart?”

“Those who can do, those who can’t teach,” she joked. At least half-joked, he knew his friend had had her fair share of disappointments in her love life. “But seriously Shiro, think about this properly. If fear is all that’s holding you back, is it really worth holding back? If I’ve learnt anything it’s do whatever you think you would look back on and regret the least.”

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


The routine was unexpected. Keith had never dated the same person for long enough that he had had the chance to work out a routine before.

Mondays Shiro usually had things on, leaving Keith some of his appreciated alone time. Wednesdays was chore day, and then Thursday he’d go to Shiro’s after seeing his friends. Friday they both kept free for the other and weekends were all theirs.

In a matter of weeks, his life transformed from circling around his own needs to running in parallel with another’s. If he was at the store and remembered milk had been running low at Shiro’s, he picked up an extra jug. Shiro had washed clothes at Keith’s and had thrown in some of his to fill the load. 

He would admit to no one unless threatened at gunpoint seeing his clothes drying on the rack next to Shiro’s made his heart speed up.

Shiro always woke first and he would start the coffee maker on the way out for his run. When he returned, Keith would be on his second cup, Shiro’s sitting ready in a thermos on the counter. They’d move easily around the kitchen, regardless of whose, comfortable in the other’s space. Sometimes Shiro would turn on the radio and laugh at the early morning presenters’ silly banter. Keith was still slightly stunned he knew Shiro’s home well enough he could reach into any drawer or cupboard and find what he was after. 

In the name of practicality, some essentials were acquired in doubles. There were two toothbrushes in each of their bathrooms, there were spare sets of clothes in each closet, and a bag of dog food in each kitchen. 

Domesticity had never held any appeal for Keith, he’d never understood his mom’s eyes swimming with tears when his dad had cleaned the refrigerator or his dad’s joy in finding his clothes folded. Now he had caught himself smiling at his socks because they were rolled up the way Shiro did it. It was a balance and a give or take that he could imagine was hard to manage. For them, it seemed easy. Something needed doing, either did it. And there was a great sense of gratitude to find something you had to do already done. Suddenly his parent’s delight in chore division made sense to him. 

To find his dishwasher empty or his trash already taken out was a novel feeling. To be greeted when you came home by the smell of dinner already cooking or the words “It’s done, just relax”, was headier than any flowers or gifts Keith could think of. And he could tell that when he did the same in return, Shiro felt the same relief. 

It was strange to think that just a few weeks ago he’d have shied from the thought of someone sharing his space, loathed the idea that someone would expect him somewhere. But that faceless someone wasn’t Shiro. Shiro was the one who had turned everything he knew onto its head. Down to things he’d thought were true about himself, he’d learned whole new sides. Shiro had showed him there were parts of him to like. Shiro touched his body like he couldn’t believe his luck, he laughed at his jokes, his eyes lit up when he saw him. In every gesture Keith saw that he was wanted and instead of this making him uncomfortable, he felt treasured. 

At first he had been able to simply savour it but now fear was creeping in like roots under a foundation. How long would it go on? Did Shiro feel the same for him? Was the vet going to stay in Altea for ever? What if he missed the city, what if he moved back? What if he left Keith behind?

  
_ What if he left Keith behind? _

It was a fear that had started to wake him up in the middle of the night. Lying in bed, sweat cooling on his body, tangled in the sheets, he tried to calm his breathing to not wake Shiro. Listening to his breaths in the bed next to him was the bitterest of balms. It only drove the point home when the cure was the source of the disease. His fear of losing Shiro was soothed by his presence, making the fear dig even deeper, clawing at the very foundations of his self in the early hours of the morning. He was a complete person, happy with his life, he shouldn’t feel paralyzed the core because of a dream where he ran after Shiro but could never catch up. His breath burning in his lungs, his legs like lead he had been running faster and faster but still the wide back in front of him had just disappeared further and further into darkness.

  
Still, that dream was better than the one where Shiro actually turned. Where his beautiful features twisted into a sneer, his voice mocking when he asked how Keith could ever have thought Shiro could stay with someone like him. 

It forced him up and out of bed, when all he wanted to do was turn to Shiro and burrow closer, wrap his arms around him so hard he could almost feel him inside. With panic building in his throat in something that felt a lot like tears, he would head downstairs to start his day, distracting himself until the dream would wake him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I kind of posted everything I had written so I needed to actually WRITE this before posting XD  
> Angst will not be a long-time visitor in this story, just so you know!  
> I hope you are all staying well and safe // CF.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A transcript of the process of writing this chapter:  
> Me: Dear Brain. I hope this finds you well, I know we haven't spoken for a while. I was thinking we could write a chapter of LoF today. I look forward to hearing back from you. Sincerely, C.  
> Brain: Oooh, otter gifs! Why does the air go wavy over hot things? Ennnndless Tumblr scrolling, sign me up!  
> Me: Brain. I have contacted you on several occasions but you do not seem to be in your office. Please contact me at your earliest convenience to discuss the progression of our joint projects.  
> Brain: Twenty minute fanfiction plan that will neeeever be written, hells yes! Ooh, Related Video section on Youtube, lemme hear ya! Netflix top twenty new releases, show me! How long do you have to cook muffins? I don't care, I want muffins. Imma make muffins!  
> Me: Brain. Brain. Brain!  
> Brain: MUFFINS. Banana muffins, blueberry muffins. I love all muffins equally. They are all my muffin children, I have no favourites. Except chocolate, I love him most. Don't judge me. I wonder if there was a muffin world, which muffin would be king?  
> Me: FOR THE LOVE OF??? BRAIN!!  
> Brain: Haha, what a funny bird video. Must share. I wonder what that person I knew seven years ago is doing today. I must ask! Now! Duolingo bird, leave me alone or I will uninstall your app!  
> Me: FOR THE LAST TIME, BRAIN!  
> Brain, while simultaneously scrolling instagram and twitter: Hmm, yes?  
> Me, close to tears, whispering: The fic, remember? The one you wouldn't shut up about three months ago? The one where you were all "oh, I've got so many ideas, you gotta post, this'll be done in a jiffy, 10k words tops. Will take a week or two. It'll be real cute." REMEMBER THAT ONE?  
> Brain: I've got so many...oh, that one. Yeah, I guess I can give you between five and ten minutes of full attention, as long as you promise that you'll reward me with eight hours of clicking on pointless stuff on the internet. And you buy me a new muffin tray.  
> Me, through clenched teeth: Deal.
> 
> And that my friends is the really long explanation of why this took so long to write...

Keith was not a romantic at heart. He’d never thought there was such a thing as soulmates or happily ever afters. He’d seen his parents and deemed them lucky enough to have found a good partnership with a surviving attraction. But he’d never understood his peers who, it seemed to him, fell in love every week. When he’d pictured a future it had never been of particular importance that it was with someone else. He had Kosmo, and his job and his friends. He lived in a house he liked and his time was his own. Then Shiro had appeared in his life and now Keith felt like he’d lost his footing. 

Like a boat torn from its safe mooring where it had bobbed along, comfortable with the well-known ebb and flow of the tides, he was now out on a raging sea. It was exhilarating, stunning and filled him with awe but it was also terrifying. Torn in two directions between delirious happiness that he had no clue how to express and a deepening fear, the metaphorical boat was creaking under the stress. If he couldn’t find a way to align the two he’d be pulled under. The surface would close in above, the cold dark enveloping him. He could already imagine the air burning in his lungs and the panic leaving him unable to swim.

To Keith, despite knowing exactly what he was doing and screaming internally not to, it meant distancing himself. In attempting to order his feelings, clear his mind, he tried pulling away and the following pain frightened him more than anything else. Even if he were the one to pull back from Shiro, the accompanying sensation was blinding. Like a drug addict off his choice substance, his thoughts would do nothing but circle around Shiro from the second he sent texts like “ _ I’ve got something on, I’ll catch you tomorrow _ .” until he went to bed to toss and turn alone. Sitting, searching for the start of the tangled thread so he could pull and feel it smooth, straighten again, he couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find the thought that would let his feelings ease. 

His phone buzzed and he only realized from how bright it shone he’d been sitting in the dark.

After the response from Shiro earlier, “ _ Of course, I’ll see you then, x _ ” a new bubble had appeared. It came at the end of a long line of texts where Keith essentially blew Shiro off, and Shiro graciously accepting. Offers of coming over or to call him were interspersed with it. 

  
In the dark of his living room, Keith read the latest text - “ _ Are we okay? _ ”

Keith groaned and flopped back on the couch. It was like he had a sixth sense when it came to him. He knew when he wanted to be alone, when he wanted his company, when to be silent, when to talk. And now, when Keith was wishing for him, even when he’d himself pushed him away. Leaving the message without a reply Keith got to his feet to start pacing. Nervous energy coursed through him. From his armchair Kosmo followed him with his eyes without moving. The dog heaved a huff. 

“Oh, shut up.”

It felt like even his dog was judging him. 

“You’re just upset Shiro hasn’t been round and given you extra snacks.”

At the mention of Shiro’s name the dog’s tail thumped against the armchair and his head cocked. Turning his head toward the window he appeared to be listening.

“He isn’t coming, I’m just saying.”

Kosmo settled down again, sighing. 

It made Keith uncomfortable he felt much like Kosmo looked at the thought that Shiro wasn’t coming over tonight. He wished desperately to hear the tread of large feet on his veranda, the quick knock and opening of the door, a deep voice calling “It’s me!”. As if Keith would ever mistake those steps. Able to tell just from how his heart quickened at the knock, he’d known it was Shiro before he entered. A minute later he’d be in his arms, warm lips against his, wide hands cupping his face. A smile kept just for him would spread on Shiro’s face as he pulled away, dinner rapidly falling on his list of priorities. 

Shaking himself from the reverie, his living room seemed even darker and bleaker when he returned to reality. The reasoning for making Shiro stay away was getting hazier, but in his desperate wish to see him, he rediscovered the fear he would one day lose him. And so his circular thoughts continued circling. Like vultures over prey he could see himself below, a weakened, desperate creature, just ready for the picking. All that it would take was a word from Shiro and the vultures would descended to feast on his body. 

It was like living on a precipice where the view around you was breathtaking but a single gust of wind would push you to your death. Beautiful, exhilarating and absolutely exhausting. With a groan Keith stopped pacing to fall back onto his couch.

  
  
  
  


o.O.o

  
  


Shiro frowned at Keith’s once more non-committal cancelling of plans. It wasn’t like him to not give a reason, and it had happened more and more the last few weeks. Even when Shiro did see him, he seemed more distant, his mind somewhere else. 

Pushing his phone back in his pocket, he continued on his run. He’d had an early appointment and hadn’t made it out in time for his morning routine run. It was only one of the reasons the whole day had felt off. The easy domesticity that they’d begun cultivating had halted and then wilted. 

The change had crept in, from seeing each other most days to a few times a week and now sometimes not even that. Keith was ensconcing himself in a shell, checking himself before speaking, before moving. It hurt to watch the immediacy leave him, something more guarded taking its place. Shiro could sense the cogs turning in his mind, the words that he wanted to speak forming. But for once he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear them when the mechanic had had the time to choose the right ones. 

He was afraid he’d say it was over. That he had tried to come up with better words for it, words that would hurt less but had realized the meaning was all the same. Shiro, with all his faults and scars, was not enough. The pieces of himself he’d glued back together, the pieces that only now were starting to grow smoother edges didn’t form a picture Keith liked. The mess of memory and uprooted reality in his mind wasn’t something Keith had the time or patience for. 

He’d sped up without noticing and now his airways burned, his lungs screaming for air. Around his wrist his watch congratulated him on his max intensity pulse. Standing at the top of the hill where he and Keith had walked up when the mechanic first showed him around the town, he had to bend over, leaning on his knees to catch his breath. A wave of nausea rolled over him and he sank down to sit. Leaning his head back, he felt the cold air turning the sweat on his back icy. 

Closing his eyes to the darkened afternoon, worry fizzled inside him like electricity. If Keith really decided he’d had enough of him, he wasn’t sure what he’d do. The tremulous belief that he would one day be able to feel whole again would shatter. A place he had begun to view as home would turn into a pit stop on the way somewhere else. The foundation of feelings he had for the mechanic, that he’d believed could be built into something lasting would be razed to the ground. His heart would break.

Getting to his feet, limbs stiffening quickly in the cold, he began walking home. He wanted a long shower before he got into bed. He had no hope of actually sleeping, but it’d be more comfortable than the ground outside in November. 

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


Keith had lost count how many times he had picked up his phone and started to send a text to Shiro. After he hit double digits it was better to just give up keeping track altogether. But every time his thumbs hovered over the screen he was reminded of what it would cost him to hit “send”. It would be admitting to himself he was in this, wholeheartedly. That he would trust himself to rely on someone else, that he’d believe for the first time in his life he was truly wanted. 

The voices wouldn’t let that happen. Picking up like whispers at the back of a theatre, it spread forward until it echoed over the stage in his mind.

Why would Shiro ever want you?

The response was immediate, the need to curl up and hide, a soothing whisper to leave now, leave before he got a chance to hurt more. If he believed Shiro wanted him, if he allowed it, he’d leave himself open as he never had before. It would be like shedding armor before going into war. Like playing Russian roulette aiming at his own heart. 

He shook his head. Shiro wouldn’t hurt me, he protested.

Not knowingly. Never on purpose. 

“No, he wouldn’t hurt me.” He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until Kosmo raised his head at the sound. 

He knew it was true. To the very depths of his being, he knew that it was true. Shiro would never hurt him. 

The knowledge had been a whiplash, stinging through him, sinking from his mind to the soles of his feet. What he was afraid of was still true, Shiro had the power to hurt him, the power to reduce him to nothing. But he wouldn’t. That was the beauty of it. It was the reason to trust. He didn’t have to trust himself to not get hurt when he could trust Shiro not to hurt him. 

Suddenly he knew he had to see him, see him now or get dragged back down again. Hurriedly he threw on the first jacket and shoes he found and set off at a run. He forgot to close the door behind him. 

Kosmo padded out, peered into the dark after Keith. Then he laid down in the doorway and snoozed.

  
  
  


o.O.o

The clock was showing after midnight when Shiro turned over again, trying to find a position that would let him go to sleep. A hurried knock resounded, once, then again. 

Sitting up in bed, he threw the covers off, for once grateful for whatever emergency needed his attention. At least working would be better than lying here pretending to sleep.

He opened the door, prepared for a panicked pet owner. But despite the hour and the frantic knock, the person on his front step when he opened the door was Keith.

“Keith?” He asked intelligently. Then he registered the clothes. Keith was wearing pyjama bottoms and his winter jacket, along with thin Converse sneakers much too cold for the weather. His hair was messy and he had a wild eyed gaze. His hands flew to the mechanic’s shoulders, running them up and down as if to check for damage. “What’s wrong, what’s happened?”

Keith drew a rattling breath, his teeth chattering.

“Is it Kosmo? Your parents? Are you hurt?”

For once he couldn't let Keith get to the point in his own time, desperate to find out what it was that was so obviously wrong.

“I...I had to see you.”

“I’m here, I’ve got you.” Shiro pulled Keith into the hall, only now feeling the night chill where he stood in his sweats.

Leading Keith gently to the couch, he pulled him down. Keith plastered himself close, burrowing into Shiro’s side.

“Keith, you‘re worrying me, please tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m afraid.” His voice was small.

“You’re safe now, I’m here.”

“That’s…” Keith’s breath hitched. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Shiro tried to decipher and failed. “You’re afraid of…of me?”

Keith pushed to his feet, rammed his hands through his hair. “I’m afraid of…of what you do to me. I… I’ve never felt like this about anyone,. And if... if you didn’t like me anymore, if something happened, if you left, if…I don't know what I’d do, Shiro. It makes me…” Slowly he turned around. His hands fell. His voice was just a whisper. “I’m terrified, Shiro.”

He sank down to sit on the coffee table, across from him.

“People leave, and I…I stopped caring. But you, you’re…you’re amazing. Unbelievable. And I’m just me. One day you’ll realize you can do better than some charity case weirdo from bumfuck nowhere. I’ll say something, or do something and you’ll see it. What everyone else sees and then I’ll be…alone.”

Horrified at the way the mechanic’s thoughts were running, Shiro still stayed put. Like when he was speaking to a spooked animal, he stayed still, softening his voice and his tone.

“Keith…Where are these thoughts coming from?”

“I don’t know! They’re just always in my fucking head, running in circles, never shutting up.“

Careful, terrified of saying too much, of saying the wrong thing, Shiro angled himself so their knees almost touched.

“I’m afraid too. For all the same reasons.”

“What?”

“I’m afraid too. You mean so much to me, Keith. It’s just been a few weeks but I can’t picture my life without you in it anymore. I don’t want to. And it terrifies me too. You’re beautiful, inside and out and maybe one day you'll realize that you can do better than a man made up of broken pieces stuck back together. Someone’s who’s loved before and failed. Someone who’s had to go to therapy to be able to even get out of bed again. I’m no catch but you make me forget it and…I’m getting addicted to it. How I feel when I’m with you.”

A shudder ran through the younger man, from head to toe.

“H-How? How can you…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence for Shiro to understand the question.

“Want you? How can I not?” The smile broke through. “You say exactly what you think, and you think beautiful thoughts. You’re the most considerate person I’ve ever met. You make me laugh. You’re the hottest guy I have ever seen. You love your parents, would die for your friends, take care of everyone around you like it’s not even conscious thoughts. You help people before they need to ask and you tell your dog he’s pretty when you think no one hears.” The chuckle was a little wet. ”Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“It’s why I…” He drew a deep breath and looked up to Keit, slightly taller than him now where he sat on the edge of the table. The words were on the tip of his tongue, he could taste them, both familiar and different. But it wasn’t the time. It was too soon, too much weight. He didn’t want to scare Keith away. “It’s why I want to be with you. Always.”

The world seemed to still. The night sounds faded away, all that could be heard were Keith’s softly shaking breaths.

Slowly, Keith sank to his knees in front of Shiro where he sat. His eyes were unguarded for once and the terrified hope in them twisted Shiro’s gut.

“I…I want you too, Shiro. You have no idea how much.”

Something broke free inside. Like an iceberg it cracked, shaking through him, the very ground reverberating as the massive weight of it crashed and released him. The weight of the worry sank away and melted in the current. Rid of it he soared, shooting up and flying. Wrapping his arms around Keith he hugged him close. Their hearts beat against one another, joined by invisible ties stronger than iron yet soft and incandescent like spider web. Whisperlight it bound them, taking form in the space between them. Shiro could feel it, the invisible tie running from his heart to Keith’s. 

One day. One day he would get Keith to believe he was the person Shiro saw when he looked at him. He would know he was more, better, more perfect than Shiro could have ever imagined he’d be allowed to touch. Keith would look in a mirror and see that he was the best man he could ever be, the only one who could have mended Shiro’s heart without even consciously trying to. 

One day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I broke down, I couldn't let them suffer anymore, hopefully you agree it was the right choice!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell from the previous chapter's notes, I am slow and lockdown has slowed me down further. Think of me as a lame geriatric snail in pitch darkness going over Velcro for a visual of my writing speed. However, this chapter is extra long so that's something?? It even contains smut, so update and smut, mark your calendars it's a day of wonders >D If you're not here for the smut, then go ahead and skip from the POV change at the middle....Yes, I wrote half a chapter of smut. All aboard.

Shiro had always enjoyed a project. Lists, goals, they grounded him. Through school he had kept a notebook of homework and chores and every time he’d ticked one off he’d felt accomplishment soothe the screaming need to be useful. In college it had been the same but it had been a whiteboard in his dorm room. Ticking things off, feeling like one essay out of the way was a another step towards realizing his dream. Through job searching, house hunting, his lists had stayed with him. Adam had laughed good-naturedly, asked if their relationship had a list that Shiro was working down once. Shiro had shaken his head, mumbled “of course not.” He was too embarrassed to admit there was a plan in his head, for the next few years, even for the next two decades of them together.

With Keith, Shiro didn’t know what they were going to do the day after, much less in a year from now. While he was slowly coming to believe in the miracle, that Keith actually wanted him, it had been harrowing to find out just how deep the mechanic’s insecurities ran. That there were voices circling in the younger man’s head so consistently they refused to let him build any belief in himself. Every time a foundation had been laid, the thoughts returned like a train on a precise timetable to run over it, cracking it to the ground, the pieces rattling away under the impact. There was no way to stop the train, its engine in perpetual motion, leaving Keith an unwilling passenger to his own life rather than the driver of it. It broke Shiro’s heart to know someone he thought the world of couldn’t fathom his own worth and value. 

He knew from experience it wasn’t a case of heaping on compliments, that no change in Keith could be willed from the outside. It was something he would have to do himself, to find himself. But that didn’t mean Shiro couldn’t be there to help. He’d pulled himself out of the pit, knew the time and patience you had to give yourself. 

Lying naked, tangled together and breathing stilling, Shiro shifted so Keith rested in his chest. It wasn’t a list, or a project, but a step. A small one. 

“Keith, why do you think I want to be with you? What do you think I see in you?”

The younger man blinked, bangs falling over his forehead. 

“Ah…”

“Not what you think of you. What do you think I think?”

“I’m pretty sure you think I’m hot.”

Shiro couldn’t help the chuckle. “Sure, I do. What else?”

Keith frowned. “You like...You think...you think I’m considerate.”

“Yes, I do. What else?”

The younger man fidgeted, tried to move. “Shiro…”

“Please, Keith. Just a little longer. Why else do I want you?”

“You say that I…”

“No, not what I say, baby. What do I think?”

“I never know what anyone thinks!”

“You know me. You know me better than anyone, with the exception of Allura and that’s only because we’ve known each other since college. What else do I think of you?”

Shiro could read the struggle on his face. 

“You think I’m funny. You laugh even at my stupidest jokes. Maybe the most at the stupidest ones.”

“I do think you’re funny.”

“You…”He glanced at him from under his bangs. “You think I’m honest. Not too honest, just honest.”

“That’s right. Do you think that I’ve made these things up about you, Keith? Are they all in my head, projected onto you? Or is there maybe some parts of you that you don’t see, that I see shining the brightest?”

o.O.o

Shiro’s words didn’t haunt him. But they popped into his head every once in a while through his day. While logic had little to do with his emotions, Shiro did have a point. He couldn’t believe in Shiro liking him for him if he didn’t believe that there were things to like. Glancing in the small mirror above the sink in the staff bathroom he shook the bangs out of his eyes. Shiro saw something worthwhile in the narrow face, the large eyes looking back at him. Something worth holding on to. Maybe there was more than he let himself see. Jutting his chin he whispered,

“I’m honest. I’m loyal. I’m funny.”

Immediately he felt stupid and shook his head to clear the uncomfortable sensation. Backtracking he drew a deep breath and tried again.

“I’m honest.”

No dissent met him and blinking in the face of his reflection he repeated it.

“I’m honest.”

Still nothing. Pleased, he ran a hand through his hair and left the bathroom.

It took him a week but at the end of it he could say all three adjectives about himself to his reflection without shying back. 

Getting home on the Friday evening he found Shiro at the stove, nodding along to the music - something old timey and sweet. Turning around when he heard him he grinned.

“What are you doing using the stove?”

“I’ve heard it colloquially referred to as “cooking”.”

“Ha ha. I know what it means, I’m just surprised to see you doing it, Mr Microwave Instructions Should Be Simpler.”

“Hunk gave me a recipe he assured me was simple. Lance called it “idiot proof”.”

“Lance would know, he’s potentially worse than you in the kitchen. The last time he cooked Pidge named it “food goo”. I think it was meant to be bolognese. It was pink.”

Shiro laughed and shook his head. “Hopefully this won’t turn to goo. How was your day?”

“I…It was good. In fact, I…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Yeah?” Hopeful, Shiro looked behind Keith.

“Not something, more something I’ve been working on.” He squared his shoulders and drew a deep breath. “I’m...I’m honest. I’m funny. I’m loyal.”

The taller man blinked, then blinked again. “Keith…” 

Horrified, Keith saw Shiro’s eyes were glittering. 

“Oh god, what did I do? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I don’t know why I thought you’d want to-”

“Shh, no, it’s…” He reached out, wrapping Keith in a hug. “It’s happy tears. I’m proud. I’m so proud of you.”

Half uncomfortable, half proud with the praise, Keith buried his nose in Shiro’s neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s amazing, baby. I’m so glad for you, that you’re starting to see it. See how amazing you are.”

“I don’t know about amazing but...I guess I like some more bits of myself than I knew.”

“I could show you in some detail right now what parts of you I particularly like,” Shiro mumbled against his hair, his hands wandering from his waist up his back. A delicious shiver worked its way from the top of his head to the soles of his feet.

“I think I’d like that.”

The dinner didn’t turn to goo, but it did burn. Keith felt way too good to care when Kosmo howled along with the incessant beep of the fire alarm to care.

o.O.o

Keith actually caught himself whistling. The worst part was he hadn’t even realized he was doing it, but noticed several of his colleagues sending him looks that made him wonder if he’d forgot to put on pants that morning. After a surreptious check to see his jeans were in place, he had shaken his head. And then he’d caught it. He’d been whistling along with the radio, to some song Shiro liked and had played on repeat over the week. 

Horrified he dropped his tools, the wrench clattering to the ground. 

There was happy, and then there was moronic. Whistling was something you did to call your dog. 

But again and again throughout the day, he’d catch himself at it, jauntily whistling while he worked. Unacceptable. 

By the time he got home, he settled on the deck, beer in hand. Kosmo as if sensing his mood had changed, was sprawled next to him.

Shiro got back half an hour after he had. He was wearing slacks and a shirt open at the collar, slightly rumpled after a day’s wear. It set Keith’s pulse tripping. It only served to heighten his annoyance.

The other man smiled when spotted him, his steps quickening. Getting closer he appeared to sense the mood Keith was in and concern dug a groove between his eyebrows, his steps slowing again. 

“Hey.” He climbed the steps and stilled in front of Keith. “What’s wrong?”

Keith grimaced. Lance maintained he always looked surly but apparently Shiro had no problem spotting immediately the mood he was in. Of course not.

“I...It’s stupid. It’s nothing.” 

How did he explain to Shiro he was upset because he’d been whistling at work today? It sounded insane.

“It’s clearly not nothing, Keith. I can see you’re upset.”

“Shiro, it’s nothing. I just need some quiet time and to finish this beer, then I’ll be fine.”

The older man narrowed his eyes, peering down. “No, it’s not one of those moods. Tell me, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not silly, not when you’re this upset about it.”

“I’m not upset! I’m just...annoyed.”

“Okay,” Shiro nodded, sinking down in front of his so they could be at the same eye height where Keith was sitting. His tone seemed placating to Keith. It made bristles rise under his skin. “Why?”

“Cause I was whistling today at work!” He pushed to his feet. 

“You...you were whistling at work.” It wasn’t a question, but Shiro still looked like he couldn’t fathom why this was upsetting. 

Angry that words never conveyed exactly what he wanted them to, he grimaced. “I never whistle. I’ve never whistled at work before.”

Shiro, still patient with him even though he was faced with an outburst that had to sound utterly ridiculous, stayed calm. “Why were you whistling?”

“I was happy!”

Keith was sure anyone else would have exclaimed “Well, now we’re getting to it!” but Shiro just nodded. 

“Go on.”

“And...and I can’t be...I can’t be this happy, Shiro. It’s...What if I get used to it? What if I think that’s normal?”

Shiro, who was still crouched, watched as Keith started to pace. 

“It can’t be normal?”

“No! Of course it can’t. This is…” he tried to convey with a gesture the space between them but the enormity of the feelings housed there couldn’t be whittled into words. “It’s...I can’t get used it. I can’t...take it for granted it’ll be like this, that I’ll feel like this.”

“Why?” Shiro’s voice was soft. 

“If it’s normal then I’ll...What would I do if...When…”

His hands started to shake and he clenched them.

“Keith, is this about you still thinking I’d leave one day?”

“I know. I know we talked about it. I felt fine, I promise, I just...it’s…”

“We did talk about it once, that doesn’t mean you have to feel the same for ever after. It’s okay to be thinking. We’re still...learning, getting used to what this between us means.”

“But I…” Keith couldn’t bring himself to meet Shiro’s eyes, instead staring out into the dark yard. “I don’t...What if you think I don’t trust you, what you tell me?”

“That’s what talking about it is, Keith. We...check in, try to tell each other what we feel so we can try to make each other feel better. Do you think that I would be happier if I know you’re beating yourself up over something, something you won’t talk to me about?”

“I…”

“I wouldn’t, Keith. I want to know. I want to know what you think and feel. I want to hear your secrets, your stories, how your day was, what you dreamt about. Because it’s you. I want to know if you’re happy or if you’re angry, or annoyed or just anything, just because.”

“That’s what scares me! Shiro, I’m...I’m relying on this. I’ve never, not since I was really young, relied on anyone. And now it’s like...it’s like I’m standing on this steady ground and it _feels_ steady, but I know that I’m living next door to a volcano and it’s not a question of if it’ll erupt, but when.”

“Keith, I don’t mind how many times we’ll have to talk about this. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I...I believe that, I do. I just wish I...knew. Knew with 100% certainty.”

“I’m afraid there’s nothing in life that that’d apply to but I promise you I’m not going anywhere.”

Keith stopped pacing. Ran a hand through his hair. With a sidelong glance, he asked,

“You don’t really mind how many times we’ll go through this?”

“I don’t. Call me stupid or self-satisfied or a permanently optimistic but I don’t think these...thoughts, these doubts, are from anything I do. It all comes from how you think about yourself, and how this leads you to believe that you’ll one day do something or say something that’ll drive me away.”

Keith knew well enough this was the case, and though it smarted to hear it, he nodded. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

Shiro smiled warmly. “Another man might take offense at old adages. I know you mean it. I know you, Keith. I want to keep knowing you, know all about you.”

Returning to his seat, Shiro shifted so he was now kneeling between Keith’s knees, never having moved off the deck. 

“All I want is for you to tell me how you feel. And you did. You didn’t drive me away today, or text me to tell me not to come over. When I got here you told me you were in a bad mood, that something happened. It’s...really great.”

“This is great?” Keith gestured to the darkened porch, still warm enough to occupy thanks to his space heaters, but surrounded by darkness. 

Shiro sat back on his heels. “It is. I want to come home and talk to you.”

“And listen to me rant about the same insecurities over and over?”

“As many times as it takes. But the optimist in me tells me the longer I’m with you, the less scared you’ll be.”

Drawing a deep breath, Keith felt his nerves slacken under his skin. Warmth pooled in his stomach and tenderness towered in his chest, threatening to crest and drag him with it into a current of unknowns. 

“I hope so.”

“I know so. I’m going to be here a long time, Keith.”

The kiss was slow, gentle, probing. Shiro was sensing the waters, as always considerate to his wishes. With a sigh, Keith pulled away from it enough to lean his forehead against his. “Take me to bed, Shiro.”

o.O.o

Shiro felt the world under him tremble as Keith’s deep voice spoke directly into his ear, his breath warm across his lips. 

“Take me to bed, Shiro.”

Sealing the request with a kiss, he slid his arms around the younger man. With a push, he lifted Keith off the seat as he stood up, straightened. Keith pulled away in surprise as the ground and the seat disappeared under him. Cradled in Shiro’s arms he threw his around Shiro’s neck to hold on. A squeak escaped him and he pulled him closer.

“Shh, easy.”

“Shiro, put me down, I can walk myself to the bedroom.”

Shiro tightened the hold, grinned.

“Nope. You asked me to take you to bed, so I will.”

“I’m not exactly a princess or princess weight, so there’s no need to princess carry me.”

Shiro started for the bedroom, manoeuvring Keith through the doorway of the house. 

“I just want to take care of you, baby, starting here.”

He could feel Keith’s muscles relax in his arms, the sulk softening already.

“Let me take care of you, baby. Please.”

Keith’s pupils bloomed, he could actually  _ see  _ it, and arousal mingled with the tenderness in his veins. 

Mute, the younger man gave a jerky nod. 

The steps of the stairs disappeared under him as Keith clung tighter to him. Every instinct Shiro had to protect, to tend, to build and to nurture was alive with the need to make this right, to make Keith feel okay again. Nothing less than his boyfriend knowing he was the most precious human on the planet would soothe him. 

Easing into the bedroom, he left the lights off, the moon shining through the windows and painting creamy outlines on the floor the only illumination they needed. 

Settling Keith down on the no nonsense gray sheets, he pulled back, the view stopping him in place, hovering over the mechanic. In the monochrome of the room he was painted in light and dark, eyes and hair black, skin a glowing alabaster. Starkly outlined against the sheets he looked ethereal, his hair spread over the pillows, his pulse hammering under the tender, almost translucent skin of his neck. 

Shiro’s mouth was dry, his skin burning. This was his for the taking. Keith wanted him, scars, flaws and years behind him not managing to slake the thirst in his gaze. How could he ever blame Keith for not believing this when he could barely fathom it himself?

With his hand trembling, he brushed a strand of hair off his forehead, the lock joining the ones spread over the pillow already. The pads of his fingers trailed the side of his face, down the proud jaw, the sensitive column of his throat. At the collar of the flannel shirt - buttoned today - he paused. Shifting so he could stop himself from simply falling on top of him, he moved both hands to undo the collar. With his prosthetic hand it took a little while and when he reached the last button, Keith was already breathing faster. The t-shirt underneath was white today, and matter of factly, Shiro grasped the neckline of it and tugged. It broke like tissue between his hands, splitting in a straight line down Keith’s front.

The younger man’s eyes widened and a flush washed over his cheeks.

“Shiro…”

“I’m taking care of you, don’t worry.”

Skin, inviting and soft, peeked between the ruined edges of the t-shirt. Keith’s chest was heaving under his breaths, the pulse visible in his neck jumping. 

Since the first time their signals had gotten cleared and Shiro knew exactly what it was Keith was asking for. It had taken some time, and some stops and starts, but they’d found a rhythm surprisingly quickly. It had never before been as easy for him to read the signs of a partner. Despite Keith’s difficulties with communicating feelings, when it came to the bedroom, his boyfriend had soon worked out when and where he wanted to be in Shiro’s hands completely. It wasn’t all the time, and it wasn’t never, but every once in a while, when the demons nipped at his heels, it made him feel better, seemed like Shiro could quieten their voices, drive them away from the pursuit. 

Knowing tonight the vultures were circling, he reached into the bedside drawer for the slip of silk kept there. Keith’s eyes lit on the scrap of black fabric and brightened like fen fires. Unprompted, he lifted his arms above his head. Quickly, Shiro secured his wrists to the metal rung of the headboard. With half-lidded eyes, Keith sank back, tryingly testing the fetters. They held, and no pain marred his features. Loose enough not to hurt, tight enough not allow him to pull away. 

Since it made for such a stunning tableau, Shiro reached into the nightstand drawer once more, this time for another strip of silk. It was one of his ties, one he’d had to wear to a meeting with a pharmaceutical rep and Keith had liked the view that day enough he’d put it to good use. It had lived in the bedside table ever since.

Holding it up, Keith’s cheeks deepened in colour. Giving him time to shake his head or say no, he watched the younger man’s eyes trained on the dangling fabric. No protest. Sure of the consent, Shiro gently tied the tie to cover Keith’s eyes.

Sitting back, his breath stalled in his throat. The view was beyond what he could process in one image. The ruined shirt, the flawless skin, the covered eyes, the bitten lips, the racing pulse, the impatient, reflexive, undulating movement of his spine. 

Arousal and tenderness weaved a rope, braiding together into something twice as strong as either on its own, tautening in his chest, threatening to tear him apart. Words he wished he could say floated in the air around them, danced at the back of his tongue. But for now, all he had was his body. 

Reaching out, he fluttered his hand to Keith’s bare chest, resting over his heart. As always, the smooth skin under his made electricity singe up his nerves. Dragging his hand from the heartbeat to trail over collarbone, the dip of chest, to the ridge mirroring the first. Trailing lower, over sternum, the rolling mounds of rib, Keith shivered. 

Committing every feature to memory, Shiro ignored the low whine from Keith, the growing insistency of his canted hips. He ran his fingers over the narrow dip of waist, the soft skin of abdomen, the jut of hipbones, the junction from hip to leg. Searching over his shoulders, the joint where it became his arm, back to his neck, to the hinge of jaw, Shiro tried to tattoo each facet into his memory so he would one day be able to bring each one out and scrutinize it, every single detail as sharp to him as it was in this moment. 

As he ran his fingers along the underside of Keith’s jaw, the mechanic keened, turning his head, lips searching. He managed to catch Shiro’s index finger, slipping it past eager lips and into the warmth in a moment. The sensation travelled straight to his groin, hinting at things to come and he allowed himself the luxury of letting his head fall back, picturing it. 

Still fully dressed apart from his opened flannel shirt and torn undershirt, Keith let his legs fall apart in invitation, his mouth still busy around Shiro’s index finger. Little punctured breaths escaped him and Shiro marvelled at how quickly the younger man could get to the point of abandon. 

Only with him though, he’d said. Only for him. Only for Shiro did this miracle occur, again and again. He wasn’t going to turn such a gift down when offered. The mere thought of it seemed sacrilegious. 

Knowing from some deep, unarticulated part of himself what Keith wanted, he stood. Watching him move restlessly on the bed he pulled his own shirt over his head, undid the slacks he’d worn today.

Senses heightened at his loss of sight, Keith turned his head to the sound of the zipper sliding down. Shiro chuckled low.

“I know, I know.”

Careful to not let his weight settle, he straddled Keith’s chest. The younger man had already grasped his intention and his lips parted in invitation. Slipping his underwear down and freeing his aching erection, he only had to lean forward to be enveloped into that stunning heat. Keith’s lips immediately puckered around him, sealing him in. Velvet fire stroked him from the base to the tip, gentle suction keeping him trapped in place.

Keith’s first performance hadn’t been a fluke. Shiro had never met anyone who could give blow jobs like his boyfriend. He had an instinct for when to step up the pressure, for when to tease, for when to hold back and when to deliver a devastating, overpowering finish. And the best part of it for Shiro was, he enjoyed it. It wasn’t a mechanic returning of a favour, or even a pleasurable give and take. Keith actively enjoyed the task for more than the pleasure it brought Shiro. 

Sensing Keith’s impatience under the surface, Shiro grabbed the headboard for leverage and started moving gently. His length slipped past smooth lips, warm silk, into heated pressure. A moan reverberated through him, the vibrations tickling his sensitive nerve endings.

Under him, Keith relaxed fully. From the explanations he’d tried to give, when he was in the right mood for it, he could focus solely, exclusively on sensation when they did this. All he could feel now was the weight of Shiro on top of him, on his tongue, the soft skin against his lips. It aroused Shiro to no end that every miniscule detail was registering in Keith’s senses, nothing in his mind but Shiro and how he made him feel.

“You’re so good, baby, doing so good for me.”

Keith shivered, his lips tightening around his length. In Shiro’s head, stars burst, instinct starting to tug at the moorings of his control. 

“Deeper?” He ground it out and a quick nod in return answered him. Slipping closer, deeper, pressure sealed him in from all sides. The convulsing muscles of Keith’s throat rippled down his length and Shiro shivered as fireworks burst behind his retinas. The ropes anchoring his control were straining, pulling against the hold he had on them. But he’d never hurt Keith. So he eased back well before it became necessary. Then he slowly moved forward again. A low hum caressed him, travelling from Keith’s chest, through his throat, into Shiro, where it burrowed and burned. The tight, warm heat undid him, snapped the ropes of his control and he eased back to allow himself the room to move. Pistoning forward, Keith arched under him, leaning back so he could slip deeper again. But Shiro had no intention of letting him get that far. So he rolled his hips, again and again, Keith’s lips wet and bee-stung around him. In moments the coiled had tightened to breaking and with one hand diving into Keith’s hair, he came. Solar flares burst behind his eyelids, leaving incandescent imprints in the darkness of his closed eyes. The fire razed through his veins, leaving nothing but a gently falling ash. Trembling still he came back to himself. 

Keith was whimpering under him, hips canting against the bed. Shiro could only guess at the pressure of still being buttoned into his jeans. 

Quickly he slid off, once more settling next to him on the bed. Unbuttoning the jeans and pulling down the zipper, Keith drew a sigh of relief.

“Is that better, baby?”

Keith nodded jerkily. “Shiro, please,” he begged, voice hoarse.

“Please what?”

“I want...I want to…”

Shiro knew there were several options Keith might want. So he settled back into stroking his chest, this time letting his lips trail in their wake. When he reached the rise of hip bone, Keith was keening. Lingering there, he sucked the taut skin into his mouth. Intent on leaving a mark, he pulled away, satisfied to see a red dusting under his ministrations. 

Slipping the undone jeans and underwear down, Keith bent almost like a bow to accommodate it, eager for the riddance of the restrictions. 

“So eager for me.”

Keith’s breaths caught, tripped over each other. Still blindfolded, bound and vulnerable, the man who never let his guard down otherwise was an open book. Back arching off the bed, legs spreading, cock jutting high against his stomach, his chest heaving with every breath as a blush covered him from collarbone to cheek. 

“Please, I…”

“You know how it works, baby. I say when, I say how and...I say if.”

Keith’s head turned from side to side, as if searching. 

“Shiro, please, I’ll take anything, I just… I need…”

“Shh, shh. I know what you need. I'll take care you of, Keith, like I promised.”

Shifting on the bed, Shiro leaned down to where Keith’s length was leaving weeping trails over his stomach. A breath away he blew some warm air and Keith jumped and shuddered at the sensation. He was pulling at the restraints hard enough to make the headboard creak. 

Unable to hold himself back, not even to prolong Keith’s pleasure, Shiro lowered his head and took him in. A garbled noise escaped Keith and he bowed off the bed. Steadying him with an arm across his midriff, Shiro tried to give with the same skill he’d received. Keith was amped up enough to move restlessly, tossing his head, rolling his hips and Shiro let more of his body weight anchor him down. To his delight this made Keith’s desperation more vocal than physical. Whimpers, pleas and moans tripped over his lips. His hands wrapped in the silk cord over his head and tugged, knuckles whitening. 

As far as Shiro could tell, Keith was thinking of nothing but this moment, this sensation. The pleasure at this thought chased a frisson down his spine despite his recent satisfaction. 

Above him Keith sinuated, small sighs stuttering out of him. Once more, Shiro shifted, this time so his shoulders held Keith’s thighs lifted and parted. Without letting Keith go from his lips, he brought his fingers to his center and prodded gently. At the mere suggestion, the younger man bucked in his grasp. Gently, Shiro rubbed circles at the tender opening, simultaneously swallowing Keith deeper. Desperation now bled into his breaths, bringing them into panting. His hips rolled, his legs trembled, his spine arched. Pleading and moans fell unchecked, setting fire to Shiro’s nervous system.

Boldened, he pushed harder into Keith until the resistance gave and his finger slipped in to the second knuckle. At the same time, knowing the stretch would burn, he dipped lower, his thumb pressing against Keith’s prostate from the outside and the inside at once. 

Under him Keith lost his last bearings, rearing up off the bed, thrashing from side to side. His voice rose from pleading whispers to unchecked shouts, a long wail of his name. His spine rose and contracted, his eyes behind the blindfold screwed tightly shut. Against his tongue he felt the telltale pulse, moments before bitter salt. Then, like a storm calming, it stilled. Leaning his head against Keith’s thigh, he withdrew, pressing kisses up his leg. Helping him lower both legs to the mattress he noted they shook. Sliding his hands higher, careful to steer clear of anything particularly sensitive he soothed as he went. Slowly he undid the blindfold, the wrist restraint. Searching Keith’s blinking eyes, he stroked damp tendrils of his hair off his forehead.

“Do you feel okay?”

Keith stretched like a cat, then rolled his wrists to ease them. “Mm.” He smiled sleepily. “Better than.”

“Wanna shower?”

“Nah. Not yet. I’d like…” before the uncertainty could slither back into his eyes, he lifted them to meet Shiro’s. “Just hold me.”

Happy to be asked, Shiro curled up around him, a barrier and shield around Keith. His heart was stilling under his hand, his hair scented with something male and appealing moving with each breath Shiro took. Breaths the only sound heard they heard the sound of trimmed claws against hardwood as Kosmo padded up the stairs. 

“It’s his dinner time. I gotta get up soon.”

“It’s our dinner time too.”

“Oh, yeah. I’d completely forgotten.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t just work up your appetite?” Shiro drilled a finger into his ribs.

Keith laughed where he lay, squirming to turn around. “Oh, you did. I’m just too comfortable to move.”

“Okay. I’ll feed Kosmo and bring you something up.”

“Shiro, you don’t have to-” he interrupted him with a kiss to his shoulder. 

“-Maybe I want to. Be right back.”

Keith sank back and as Shiro descended the stairs, still pulling on a t-shirt, he heard Keith mumble,

“Just don’t set fire to anything in the kitchen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed even if you happen to be too embarrassed to admit it by commenting or kudosing - remember you never have to be though as I wrote it! XD


	14. Chapter 14

“I’ll take you,” Keith heard himself offer and blanched.

“You…” Shiro looked up from where he was sorting papers at the front desk of the vet practice. 

They’d agreed to meet there to go to Yellow for dinner but Keith had found his boyfriend buried in piles of paper. His hair was on end from him running his hands through it and he had a wild look in his eye. Apparently a copy of something he’d filed had gone missing and now had to be re-filed. Something about registries or licence. Tax. Whatever it was, Shiro was clearly upset at the thought of something being misfiled, and to make it worse he couldn’t find his own “proof copy”. A proof copy in Shiro meant the copy he kept to prove he’d sent the document in. 

“You’ll take me to Galra to re-file the form?”

Keith shrugged uncomfortably. “You just said Allura can’t go until next week. I can take you tomorrow.”

“You hate Galra, you’ve told me more than once.”

He did hate it. The closest big city to Altea, he tried to spend as little of his time there as possible, but it was where his mom’s family came from originally and there were things you couldn’t avoid going there for. Like filing things.

“I don’t...hate it. I just don’t like it.”

Shiro chuckled and sank down on the office chair behind the desk. Rubbing his eyes, then blinking, he looked up again at Keith.

“It’s okay, Allura can take me next week, it won’t be a problem.”

“You’ll be thinking about this missing form all weekend. And then I’ll have to watch you think about the form, and then stress that you’re stressed and in the end I’ll just wish I’d taken the damn thing myself.”

“Am I really that predictable?” Shiro smiled.

“When it comes to filing, you really are.”

“I just don’t want to make you do something you don’t like doing because it stresses  _ me  _ out.”

“Shiro, do you like to watch me get stressed out?”

“Of course not.”

“And if you could help me, you would?

“Of course I would, I’d...Ah.” He laughed again. “You used my own strategy against me.”

“It’s a good strategy. It’s helped me a lot.” He put his hands into his pockets, tossed his fringe out of his eyes. “Come on, Shiro, it’s just one day, I’ll live.”

“Okay. If you’re sure?”

“I’m sure. Besides, maybe you can show me what was so great about city living?”

o.O.o

Shiro couldn’t believe his eyes. Keith had voluntarily picked up a conversation with the artist standing next to his piece, and was for all the world looking as comfortable as did at home. Shoulders back, hands in pockets, squinting at the sculpture. The stance looked exactly like some guy assessing a car he might buy. It was potentially apt as the sculpture he was regarding was a motorcycle, rising from parting resin waves. A spotlight hung above bathed it in a white beam of direct light. The brass plate on the front identified it as “Ascension”, by “Rolo”.

Shiro’s suggestion to go to a gallery while they were in Galra as part of the “city living tour” had been met with no resistance, if not a lot of enthusiasm either. They’d set off from Altea early, getting to Galra in time to brunch. Keith had pointed out there would be no need for brunching if people just got up in the morning, or had just coffee until lunch, but he’d seemed to enjoy the food. The errand had predictably taken a while the way bureaucracy always did, and then they’d caught a film at the cinema. Something about superheroes defending the world. Keith had watched all action scenes with rapt attention, while Shiro mostly enjoyed holding Keith’s hand in the dusk of the room.

An exhibition opening had just been sheer luck. He’d intended just to pop in, sense the atmosphere, glance at the works. But Keith had surprised him, taking his time over each piece. A few deadpan comments had kept Shiro snorting behind his program but it had heightened rather than lessened his enjoyment.

And now, Keith had started a conversation with the artist across the room, seemingly on his own accord, and more surprisingly, appeared to be enjoying it. Ambling back to Shiro, Keith smiled.

“That guy,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “found that ‘71 Rickman Enfield Interceptor at the dump. The dump! Do you know how much that’d cost?”

“I have an idea. Though it’s been a long time since I even thought about bikes.” He peered over Keith’s shoulder at the motorcycle. To his surprise, a gentle wave of wistfulness rather than panic washed over him at the thought of riding it.

“Crazy,” Keith shook his head. “Like, Crocker-level rare and it’s just...sitting there.”

“Maybe you’ll be as lucky one day.”

Keith laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to start dumpster diving for an Enfield.”

“Glad to hear it.” Shiro draped an arm around Keith’s shoulders. “Now, how about a ridiculously named, over-elaborate and stupidly expensive cocktail before we go back home?”

Keith slowed his speech to an ambling drawl. “Gee, you should sell those for a livin’.” 

“It’ll be fun, let’s go.”

o.O.o

The bar looked like the way Shiro had described the drinks - over-elaborate and stupidly expensive. But Shiro strode in like it was the most normal thing in the world and steered for the mahogany bar. Mirrors everywhere reflected light in bouncing brilliance and a quiet din of voices and cutlery permeated the air from the dining area. The place looked like Rita Hayworth might spin around on one of the barstools, martini in hand, and greet them with a raised eyebrow. Keith felt like he wore a sign around his neck proclaiming his preference for a beer straight from the bottle just from entering. 

Shiro looked right at home leaning against the bar. Despite jeans and a sweater, he looked like he belonged. It made a little stitch of worry prick at his heart. This was Shiro’s element, where he felt at home. And everything about it made Keith feel so out of place. Surveying the line from his profile, down his shoulders, the curve of back and the grip of jeans over strong glutes and leg, Keith knew if he’d spotted Shiro in a bar, he’d never have dared approach him. And yet, he was his. Through serendipity, luck, or a higher power, somehow Keith Kogane had him. 

Shiro turned and motioned for him, gray gaze warm. Suddenly, Keith was in on the joke. The place stopped feeling unwelcoming and formal, instead inviting the joke at its expense under Shiro’s gaze. Reaching the other man, his arm once more settled around his shoulders and he put his hand on top of the leather bound menu with imprinted gold lettering spelling “Drinks”. 

“I sense…” Shiro began, closing his eyes and frowning. “I sense they will not have puns-for-names of drinks, and it’ll be divided into “Classics” and “Modern Classics”. The Pornstar martini and Sex on the beach will be exluded from both sections.”

Curious, Keith flipped the menu open. Shiro, it appeared, was spot on.

“You’ve been here before.”

“Never, I swear.” Shiro crossed his heart with a grin. “I just know the type. I also know we’re going to be able to order a drink that isn’t on the menu without the bartender raising an eyebrow or googling the recipe on his phone.”

“Yeah?”

Shiro winked and turned his attention to the bartender. “Two sidecars, please.”

The barman nodded and turned to the bottles behind him. Keith checked the menu. Sidecars weren’t mentioned.

“Sidecars?”

“I thought we could stick with the motorcycle theme.”

“I am never driving a motorcycle with a sidecar.”

“Oh, come on. What about me, I’m so much older than you, I’ll be relying on you to take me out in the sidecar so I can feel alive again. I’ll buy you a bike with a sidecar when you turn...seventy.”

The years Shiro pictured ahead of them stretched in front of Keith, the ground turning under his feet. It was more than forty years until he turned seventy. The amount of times he would be bound to mess up before then were uncountable. And yet, Shiro trusted that they could still make it work.

“I’ll be so cute. I’ll wear those goggle things, and hold on to our packed lunch.”

And then, there it was. Not the image of them, old and wrinkled and riding a motorcycle with a sidecar. But the feeling. The sense of Shiro next to him, through the weeks and the months and the years. The warm, steady presence of his body by his side, of the weight of him on the other side of the bed. His shadow stretching next to Keith’s own, his hand wrapped securely around his. Shiro’s voice in his ear, his breath on his lips, his heartbeat against Keith’s. He felt all of it, and it compressed his chest, pushed the air from his lungs in a slow squeeze. This was it. This was forever. 

“It better be a ‘53 BMW,” he managed to squeeze out. “And no baloney on the sandwiches for the packed lunch.”

“I’ll be old, baby, not senile. No baloney,” he chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”

As he walked away, Keith drew a shaky breath, then another. So this was what it was like. He’d always wondered, worrying that his less than stellar grasp on identifying his emotions would allow him the chance of love to pass him by. But there was no mistaking this sensation, this deep-seated knowledge. He couldn’t have told anyone what it was like, except woefully inadequate descriptive words like “certainty”. He felt...certain. Safe.

“Hey.” Someone next to him interrupted his thoughts. A man leaned against the bar next to Keith, his eyes sliding from his face to his toes in a deliberate manner. He had sandy brown hair, caramel eyes and a dimple in his right cheek. If Keith had had any interest in anyone else, he would have placed him squarely into the “yes” box.

“Hi.” Keith returned to watch the bartender mix their drinks, fascinated by the quick dashes and sure hands despite no measurers or recipes appearing within sight.

“You’re really hot.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to get out of here and do something more fun with me?”

Over the man’s shoulder Keith saw Shiro returning from the bathroom. “I’m sorry,” his smile widened. “I have a boyfriend.”

Shiro leaned against the bar behind the man. “Hello, I’m his boyfriend.”

The man turned and grinned easily. “Well, I could see from his face when he spotted you I didn’t stand a chance. Nice to meet you both,” he nodded and then ambled down the bar in search of his next option. 

Keith laughed. “I look taken?” He’d only realized a minute ago just how taken he was, but somehow others could already see it?

“Not yet, but if you give me ten minutes after we get back and…” Shiro had sidled closer and spoke at a low murmur, directly into his ear. “I’ll wreck you.”

“Check, please!”

Shiro laughed and kissed his cheek. 

o.O.o

The rain pelted down outside like vengeance from the sky. The clear skies of the past weeks had clouded over threateningly around four in the afternoon rendering the afternoon dark as night. Then, as if a shower had turned on the raindrops started falling. Through the windscreen of the pickup almost nothing could be seen. The dark, the wind and the gray sheets of water obscured anything not immediately in the glare of the headlights.

Next to him Shiro was pale, his jaw clenched. He didn’t need to remind Keith it had been raining on the night of the accident. Grimacing, he struggled to keep the car steady. He should stop, but with Shiro looking whitefaced and tense next to him he didn’t want to force him to sit in the car any longer than he absolutely had to.

The storm had caught them completely by surprise on the way back from Galra. It had been a fun day but now Keith was wishing they’d stayed home. Or stayed in Galra. Anywhere that wasn’t in a moving car during a raging storm.

“Stop.”

Shiro spoke quietly but his voice was urgent.

“Please stop the car.”

Without thinking about continuing, Keith flicked the hazards and steered for the edge of the road. The second the car stopped, Shiro clawed at the door, fumbling until he could trip out. Getting out himself, Keith felt the wind hit him like a blow. The cold rain slapped at his face and he tried to blink it out of his eyes. Rushing around the car he found Shiro leaning forward, his hands on his knees as he tried to draw breath. He was sheet pale and Keith’s heart contracted painfully.

Crouching so he could try to meet the other man’s eyes he could hear over the howling wind the fast, shallow breaths Shiro was trying to draw. 

Allura had told him about this, about the panic attacks that sometimes came over him. Trying to remember what she’d said about them, nothing came to him. Desperate, he kneeled on the wet ground, the rain running in freezing rivulets down his back, bleeding through his jeans.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Shh, shh. Try to breathe, just listen to me.” He put his hands on either side of Shiro’s face, talking evenly. “Listen to my voice, I’m right here with you.”

Shiro’s breaths were still rushing and fear was alive in his eyes. Keith reached higher, hugged him.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, Shiro. Keep looking at me. Try to take a breath.”

Fear was starting to seep into his blood like the rain rolling down under his collar. If Shiro couldn’t manage a proper breath soon he’d pass out.

“Slow, easy. I’m here, Shiro, it’s okay. We’re out, we’re out of the car.”

The breaths wouldn’t come, he could hear the terrifying rasp of Shiro trying desperately to draw breaths even over the howling wind and the roar of the rain. Shiro’s hands twisted into his jacket, the fear in his eyes primal. 

Panicking, Keith pulled himself nearer, held Shiro between him and the car, pressed him close. With his lips by the other’s ear, he lowered his voice, spoke directly into the shell, skin brushing skin.

“You’re here with me, I won’t let anything happen to you. I’ve got you. Just listen to my voice, don’t worry about anything else, just listen to me.”

In his arms, Shiro’s body was convulsing in its need for a full breath and Keith squeezed his eyes shut, prayed the fear couldn’t be heard in his voice. 

“We’re going to get home, and we’ll take these wet clothes off and crawl into bed. I’ll let you choose the Netflix show, even though I know you’ll choose a nature documentary. I’ll fall asleep, which is why you choose them in the first place.” He chuckled wetly. “You just can’t help taking care of me, you don’t even try, it just happens. And I…” He was shaking but he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or cold. “I thought I would hate anyone taking care of me, but I don’t. I love it. I love it when you’re there to take care of me, like it’s not even a conscious thought to you. I love that you’re there when I come home, or that you text me an emoji just because you like using them. I love... I…”

The words felt physically too large to pronounce. Sitting in his throat they grew so the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes had no way to go but run down his cheeks. He had never said it to anyone who wasn’t his parents before. “Love you.”

Pushing away so he could see Shiro’s face, he repeated it, easier now. “I love you.”

Shiro was pale, his lips white but at the words the anguish in his eyes was overshadowed by shock. His breath tripped and then he managed to suck in a breath.

“That’s it, good, just keep listening to me, don’t think about anything else.”

Another breath heaved through Shiro’s body and so relieved he could cry, Keith hugged him close, pressing his face to the other man’s throat. 

Weakly, he felt Shiro’s hand come to grasp at his shoulder. Sinking deeper so he was leaning against the car, no longer bent over, Shiro hugged him close.

“I’m okay. It’s okay. It’s over,” he croaked.

“Oh, thank God.” Keith felt Shiro’s forehead on his other shoulder.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Shiro. I should have realized, we should have just stopped somewhere when it started raining.”

He cursed himself for a fool.

“I should have said something sooner. I didn’t want to worry you. Or make you stop in the rain. You’re soaked through.”

“Shiro, stop apologizing for this. I’ll dry off.”

He was quiet for a moment. Keith could barely hear him over the rain when he spoke again, only able to as his lips were less than an inch from his ear. “I love you too.”

Inside Keith, everything quaked and heaved. Like the ground of the world he’d always lived in shifted and shook he tried to make sense of it. It couldn’t be possible, it was unbelievable that a man like Takashi Shirogane loved him. But through the rain he could see it in his eyes, shining and warm. He realized his eyes hadn’t changed in any way, the way he looked at him hadn’t changed. It was a look he knew, but he hadn’t been able to place it before, unable to believe it. With a shock wave rolling from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, he realized Shiro had loved him for a while. It had been there, In the way he chose shows that would make sure Keith fell asleep, in the way he texted, in the way he brought him a coffee because “he’d thought of him”. It was there in how he worked tirelessly to make Keith see the best in himself, in helping him believe in himself. It was there in how he let no one else but Keith see him vulnerable, no one but Keith knew the depth of the scars he carried. 

Gripping him close, Keith left all other words, none more important than the ones already said, by the wayside and kissed him. Kissed him with all that he had, wanted and wished. Around them the rain drummed on the roof of the car, hissed against the asphalt of the road. Cars whooshed by, kicking up arches on either side. Headlights carved shafts through the murk and the radio inside the car still played. And against the side of Keith’s pick up, the two of them kissed like the world didn’t exist around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Dear Brain. Since you so vehemently insist this CANNOT be a short story, even though you PROMISED that it would be "not over ten k, done in a flash", are we done now?  
> Brain:...Nah.  
> Me:...but they love each other. They complete one another.  
> Brain: The car isn't fixed.  
> Me: For the...I'll go back through this chapter, I'll put it in, no biggie. We can finish this thing  
> Brain: No, it's a big deal. The car has to get fixed AFTER.  
> Me: WHY? WHY CAN'T YOU LET ME FINISH IT?  
> Brain: The car is a metaphor for Shiro's journey, you nitwit, and it can't be finished UNTIL HE HAS HEALED.  
> Me:...You did NOT plan that all along.   
> Brain: I SO did. I just didn't tell you. Now go and keep working, minion. Moahaha!
> 
> I meant to write you a note to tell you that despite that looking like the ending, it isn't. Instead Brain would like to spoiler you all, but there you go - still a little bit left of this "10k, no bigge" story XD


	15. Chapter 15

With the clothes in the dryer and the rain still falling outside, Keith slid closer to Shiro in his bed. From downstairs the dryer rumbled rhythmically and the rain outside had quietened to a patter against the pane. He heard Kosmo’s claws against the floor, then the padding of paws before an “oomph” signalled he’d settled on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

Under his head, Shiro’s heartbeat was returning to normal, his breaths stilling. He felt the muscles under his cheek contract when the other man shifted to press a kiss to the top of his head. Despite what they’d just done, it felt as intimate as what had come before. Keith burrowed his head deeper against Shiro.

“I never want to leave this bed.”

A rumble that was half chuckle, half agreement, answered him.

“Just stay like this, feeling like this.”

“Is there…” Shiro hesitated. “Is there a part of you that still doesn’t believe it? Is that why you want to stay in this moment?”

Keith blinked, his dresser losing focus. “Ah…” He shifted. “It’s...I believe you. I do. I just...I keep thinking I’ll mess it up. Things can’t be this perfect. If...If we stay here, then I can’t do anything that’ll change your mind.”

“Keith…” Shiro’s voice was patient, but he still struggled to look up, to meet his eyes. A gentle hand tilted his chin. The gray eyes above him radiated such tenderness Keith didn’t know if he could meet them. Under his gaze he felt warm, treasured - and because he was Keith - uncomfortable. There was not enough about him to warrant that look in Shiro’s eyes.

“I love you. I love you now, and I’ll love you tomorrow, and next week. I’ll love you when we’ve just fought, I’ll love you when you’re not at your best. I’ll love you, no matter what. It’s not a tap that you can turn on and off, it’s just there.”

Keith wrapped his arms around Shiro, buried his face against his neck. “I love you too. I love you so much, I don’t even know how to say it.”

There was a smile in Shiro’s voice, “Just like that works for me.”

“I didn’t think...I wasn’t sure that… I could…”

“Could what?”

Keith moved in Shiro’s arms so he could look up into his eyes. “Fall in love. I knew I loved my parents, and my friends, but I’ve never felt…” his words failed him. “This.” He gestured in the almost non-existent space between them. 

“I’ve never felt this either.”

“But you’ve been in love before?”

“It didn’t feel like this.” 

Keith felt it, and he knew Shiro saw it. He saw the shadows waking in Keith’s gaze, the doubt creeping in. The older man tilted his chin up. 

“This is... _more_ , Keith. With Adam, we sort of suited each other, we wanted the same things and it was easy. I grew to love him. With you I...I feel like it was always there. Like it’s been inside me forever and once I met you, the wall hiding it started falling away.”

Keith pushed himself up to half lying on Shiro’s chest. A small frown formed. “How do you always know what to say? How do the words line up that way in your head and then come out so they make sense?”

“I don’t know, really. I guess I always had an easy time identifying feelings because I’ve always had so many,” he chuckled. “Expressing them I learned more about in therapy, and after the accident. I’d never known how things we carry without acknowledging can wear on us.”

“But...how do the words just...make them make sense?”

“I think it’s different for everyone. I make sense of feelings through...metaphors, images. If I feel upset, I think of what sort of upset it is, what it looks like inside me. Maybe it’s like a tangled, red yarn. Once I see it in my head, it’s easier to get the words to describe it.”

“Oh.”

“So when you say you love me, then I can see in my head something like a golden light inside. It helps me being able to tell you it feels...safe. I feel safe, and worthy and loved.”

“I feel that too. I just wish I had an easier time putting what I feel into words, like you do.”

“I like your words, Keith. Just the way they are.”

Keith nodded. He still knew it’d save him frustration if he had Shiro’s ability to clad his feelings in words, to translate them to others. But he’d never thought of feelings in a more roundabout way, like images, before. Maybe he could try that, see where it got him. 

o.O.o

Shiro had no idea what had gotten into him. He was a sensible, practical person. He made well-considered decisions, he wrote pro- con lists. But then, one of the biggest decisions of his life, he’d just gone and...done it.

Waiting for Keith, he stood outside and stared at the dilapidated building.

He’d texted twenty minutes ago, asking him to please come to the address. Hearing the familiar sound of Keith’s bike, he turned to face him. Keith hopped off, taking the helmet off and shaking his hair back. The beautiful features were drawn in worry.

“What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“I…” Shiro looked to the house. “I bought it.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“I bought this house.”

“You bought...You  _ bought  _ this house?!”

Shiro nodded, Keith’s loud exclamation hitting home. He was crazy, you didn’t buy a house like you did a jug of milk. You didn’t just sign the dotted line because you felt at home in it. There were rules, guidelines…Weren’t inspectors and reports and guarantees part of it?

“I...You said you’d start looking, I didn’t know you were this serious.”

“Neither did I. I just…” He gestured to the building like it could tell him the sense of familiarity he’d gotten when he saw it.

“Shiro, this house has been empty for years.”

“I could see that.”

  
  
“You’ve been in then?”

“Of course I’ve been in it! I wouldn’t buy a house without seeing the inside.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Most of the inside,” he added at mumble.

“Okay.” Keith tilted his head, stared up at the building. “Then let’s see it.”

They walked closer, and Shiro tried to look at it with more objective eyes.

It was a large, two storey building, made from wood. It had probably started out as something more humble but been added to. It had a rustic feel, built from logs, with a wide porch wrapped around both levels. They stepped into a large, dusty hall, the floor made from wide planks. To the left a sitting room opened, to the back the kitchen and to the right was a tiny, grimy powder room and then the stairs. They looked like something carved right out of a giant tree, rough hewn and timeless. 

Keith went into the living room which stretched that end of the house. A large fireplace graced one wall and to the right came the real selling point for Shiro. The view. The house sat on a knoll before the dip of a ravine and the Colorado mountains spread out in triumph, only parting for the silver tongue of the river. The trees lining the feet of the hills burned proudly against the blue sky.

“It’s amazing,” Keith breathed. “And it has a deck this side too,” he added, looking down through the dirty window. 

“I can’t believe this view.”

They popped into the miniscule corridor kitchen, opened the door to the powder room where the only saving grace was it was a room already plumbed. The rest would have to be gutted. 

Upstairs, Shiro had only seen one room and they started there. It was in the same corner as the living room and the windows were of an 80’s style but they were large and displayed the view to the fullest, the entire corner in essence made of glass. 

The rest of the rooms, barring the view, were in a sad state. Damp stains, peeling wallpaper, dingy carpet all crowded into the small rooms. 

Keith was pulling at the carpet, the wallpaper, peering up fireplaces and checking floorboards as they went. All the things Shiro wished he’d remembered to do before handing over the largest check of his life. 

“It’s not too bad,” Keith said finally. “Most of this is superficial.”

  
  
“Really?” Relief washed through him. 

“And you could really make it into something. If you…” Keith began gesturing and walking up the hall, talking about knocking down walls, installing a utility room, making use of the light. 

“So...you like it then?”

“I love this house. I always have. It used to be a small B&B back in the day. Mr and Mrs Monaghan lived here before moving to Arizona where their daughter lives. It’s been on the market forever.”

“I’ve never done anything like this in my life. I write lists, I mull over my decisions but this...I just went inside and I knew I wanted it. This house it...It was like when I saw you. You came around the corner that hot day and I knew my life would never be the same again.”

Keith glanced at him from where he stood, thumbs in the belt loops of his jeans. “You think this house is hot then?”

Laughing, Shiro elbowed him. “I’m baring my soul here.”

“Shiro, I…” Keith’s eyebrows knitted. “I think it’s fine to be impulsive sometimes. And you can’t rent that little apartment forever. If you want to stay in Altea, you should have a home you like.”

“Oh, I’m staying.” He put his arm around Keith’s shoulders. “You’ve made sure of that.”

“Well, I can’t wait to come visit you in this...place.” 

As if on cue, one of the ceiling planks gave up and fell down with a crash.

o.O.o

“Shiro loves me,” Keith said it with a wind of breathless wonder as he entered.

Pidge didn’t even bat an eyelid where she was bent over Socrates’ terrarium. “To quote Lance,  _ Duh _ . That man has been a goner since he saw you.”

“He’s perfect, Pidge. And he wants me. Me.”

“He’s got good taste. Hand me the crickets, will you?”

“It’s just…” he handed his friend the box he’d rather not think about what it contained. “I just don’t really believe it.”

At this, Pidge’s attention was dragged from the terrarium and her voice turned stern. “Well, you should. You’ve always been the one with the lowest opinion of yourself, seeing faults none of us see. I hope that you don’t let that hollow out what Shiro feels for you, sees in you. Because trust me, Keith, the rest of us already see it.”

Humbled and stunned, Keith could only watch as Pidge matter of factly strewed some dazed crickets into the terrarium. His friend wasn’t one to openly talk about her feelings, or often discuss those of others so to hear her speak so plainly about his, and their friends’ had shocked him. It wasn’t like he’d thought his friends didn’t like him for who he was, but he had been convinced they were as aware of his shortcomings as he was himself. But Pidge didn’t lie. Maybe some of what he saw as his shortcomings were the things that...made him Keith. Maybe even the things that made them like him?

“He bought a house, Pidge. It’s real. He’s staying.” 

Keith had to wrap his own arms around himself, afraid he’d float away otherwise.

“So are you going to move in together now and get married and adopt a dozen puppies?”

“What?” Keith was torn from his reverie.

Pidge shrugged as she replaced the cricket box in the freezer.

“I don’t know how it goes. You say “I love you”, he buys a house, then what? Aren’t there logical steps to follow? A montage of you guys moving in together and laughing, ending with some boppy pop while falling into your new bed?”

“That’s frame by frame from that romcom Lance made us watch when Lola broke up with him.”

Pidge pushed her glasses up her nose and grinned. “Well, my knowledge of romantic relationships comes from popular media. And almost the only person forcing that on me is Lance when he goes through a break-up.”

“But you think he bought the house so...so I’d live in it?”

Like he was on a treadmill, he felt as if the speed button was stuck, the ground under him rushing away faster than he could run. Panic began seething in the pit of his stomach. This was too much, too soon, too fast.

“Isn’t that what people do? When they’re in love? I don’t know, Keith. I was just joking, don’t look so panicked.”

“Too late.” 

Was that what Shiro expected? They loved each other and now Shiro had a bigger place so now they’d move in together? The house on the hill was fantastic but he didn’t want to leave his house, he’d only just paid back his parents the loan that had allowed him to buy it. 

“Really, Keith, don’t. Just talk to him, I’m sure whatever is next, you’ll both be on the same page.”

Despite Pidge’s words, Keith wasn’t so sure. 

o.O.o

“Are we moving in together in your new house?”

Shiro almost hit his head on the shelf above his head where he was bent in half to count how many boxes of 10 ml syringes were left in the storeroom.

Unfolding himself he turned to find his boyfriend behind him. He looked extremely uncomfortable and he was weighing back and forth on his feet. 

“Ahh…” Shiro wasn’t sure where this was leading. “You...Don’t you think it’s...a little...early? For that?”

Keith stopped weighing on his feet, and his arm holding onto his elbow dropped. He looked stunned.

“I mean, we can talk about it, I guess but I’m…”

“No,” Keith blurted. 

Shiro paused.

“No, I don’t want to move in with you.” 

“Okay.” Shiro nodded slowly. “Good.”

“No, I…” Keith sighed in exasperation but Shiro knew it was with himself. “I mean…”

Seeing the man get tangled into his thoughts, his frown deepening, Shiro asked carefully,

“It’s because I bought that house, isn’t it?”

“I hadn’t even thought of it. I’m so dense. But Pidge...” Keith replied darkly. “And then...then I wondered when she said it if that was what you were thinking and I wasn’t thinking it and then you’d be upset I didn’t think it but I’ve never lived with anyone, well, I’ve never lived with my boyfriend before and I’m not sure about it and-”

“Pause. Breathe.”

The mechanic stopped, drew a breath. Ran a hand through his hair. “It’s...it’s not that I don’t want to, sometime. I just…”

Shiro’s heart warmed, like a spotlight had been turned on it. “I know, it’s too early. I’d like to live with you one day too.”

Keith looked agog. “You would?”

“Of course I would. I want to wake up every morning with you there. I want to hear your keys in the door, hear you greet me when I come home. I want to do our laundry and sleep in our bed. Just...not yet.”

Keith’s eyes danced now. 

“Me too.”

“Good,” Shiro relaxed fully. “So we’re on the same page?”

“Yeah,” Keith closed the distance and wrapped his arms around his waist. “The same page.”

“I’m sorry, I should have thought about discussing this. I just saw that house and I...fell in love. If, or when, we want to move in together, then I think we should decide together where that’ll be. It was selfish of me to just think about me when I bought it. I haven’t done anything that impulsive in...ever.”

“It’s okay. I understand. It’s a cool place. And...maybe one day we can talk about if we’d like to live in it.”

Shiro’s heart fizzed like a bottle of champagne, swirling, golden and bubbly. 

Keith stepped back, jingled his car keys in his pockets. Looked around. “So...this is what communicating is like.”

Shiro chuckled in surprise at the tone. It sounded like Keith had discovered a new fact about something he didn’t know in a trivia contest. 

“I believe it is.”

“I...communicated. I was uncomfortable, and I told you, and you weren’t mad.”

Shiro, knowing Keith was using the time to structure events in his head, didn't mind the rerun.

“That’s about right.”

“Weird.”

Shiro tilted his head. “It was weird?”

“No, not like...Not like it felt weird, more...Weird, like I’m surprised I did it. I didn’t think about it over and over, or stress. I just came here and I asked. And then...we feel the same way.”

Smiling, he put the check list down. “We do.”

“Okay.” Keith nodded as if to confirm it one last time. Then he straightened. “So...I’ll see you at home?” He backtracked. “My place?”

“I’ll be back around seven.”

“I’ll make some pasta or something.”

“That sounds great.” 

With a short kiss, Keith wandered back out of the store room. 

o.O.o

A month later

Keith told himself to be nervous was a ridiculous response. The reason he and Shiro had met in the first place was so Keith could fix his car. And he had. It had taken months, longer than he had ever guessed but basically all that had been salvageable to keep it roadworthy was the chassis. Driving it up the road he also cursed Lance for buying the ridiculous pink bow that made it look like Keith had won the car on The Price is Right. But as it might make Shiro smile, he’d left it in place. 

Secretly pleased with how the engine purred and the suspension eased over the gravel drive, he pulled to a stop outside his house. Leaving the car parked, he spared a moment for the thought that the black Jeep Cherokee somehow looked right parked outside his house. 

Getting inside, he was greeted exuberantly by Kosmo who Keith had left at home to avoid Shiro’s meticulously clean car getting dusted with dog hair and eau de Kosmo. Letting the dog pull him into a game of “you throw ball” until the canine was panting, he then ventured inside. He washed his hands thoroughly, then stuck some frozen leftovers in the microwave to defrost. 

At the window, Kosmo’s ears twitched and his tail started thumping between the armchair and the side table. Despite being a large dog, he was convinced this was the best place to keep track of what happened in the yard. After what felt like dozens of times, Keith had given up on having the table within reach of the chair. The two pieces of furniture now stood far enough apart that Kosmo could squeeze between and look out the window. The dog’s tail sped up, his weight starting to shift between his paws in a dance of joy Keith recognised by now. 

Shiro. 

His heart did a fair imitation of his dog’s taps of delight. Swallowing back nerves he still wasn’t sure why he sensed, he went out on the deck. Kosmo raced past him like Shiro had been to the Western front for the past six months rather than left that morning. Allura had dropped him at the bottom of the drive and spotting the streak of darker darkness hurtling his way, Shiro sank down on one knee. He still had his arms full of dog when he looked up and spotted the car. Freezing in place, his head swivelled to stare at Keith. Affecting an easy stance, Keith leaned against the door frame. 

Shiro’s gaze returned to the car. Slowly he got to his feet. Kosmo, as if sensing he’d get no more rubs, slinked off after a last affectionate lick to Shiro’s hand. The older man was still staring like he’d never see his own car before and with a twinge of unease Keith pushed off the door frame and joined Shiro on the drive. 

When he was close enough to hear him, the veterinarian spoke. “It’s...my car.”

Keith lifted one shoulder in acknowledgment. 

“It...looks brand new.”

“I gave it a paint job while I was at it.”

“So you...you fixed it?”

“I did say I would. ‘M sorry it took so long. Some of the parts were-”

He was interrupted by Shiro grabbing him, pulling him harshly towards him in a hug. The taller man buried his head in the crook of Keith’s neck, breathing heavy. Shocked, Keith realized Shiro was crying. Wrapping his arms around him, he blinked tears of sympathy that had risen in his eyes away. 

“Shiro? Shiro, I’m sorry if this upset you. I should have told you, not just sprung it on you and-”

“No.” Shiro’s voice was muffled by Keith’s shirt. “No, it’s not...I’m not sad. It’s just...you fixed it. Three different mechanics told me this car was nothing but scrap but you...you fixed it. For me. It’s…” he looked up, past Keith’s shoulder, his hands tightening in Keith’s shirt back. “It’s whole. Like new.”

“Well, almost.” Keith leaned his cheek on top of Shiro’s bent head. “It’s still got thousands of miles on the clock, and it’s all the same on the inside.”

“So it’s still my car.”

“Very much. I don’t think anyone else could mistake the CD collection in the glove box for anyone’s but yours.”

Shiro chuckled wetly. “I don’t allow just anyone to see that.”

“I’m honored you let me, then. Come on, do you want to see how it drives?”

Rubbing his face, Shiro straightened. A little unsteady, he slowly made his way to the car. Opened the door, hesitated. Keith said nothing. Then he made up his mind and climbed in. After a moment, he relaxed, and a smile spread over his features. 

“It feels the same.”

“Try starting it. Should feel better.”

Keith walked around to the passenger side. “Want some company?”

“Only if it’s yours.”

Keith slid into the car, closed the door. Knowing Shiro wouldn’t even start the car until he had, Keith put the seat belt on. 

“Okay. Okay,” he breathed and reached for the ignition where the key was still in.

With a practiced ease, Shiro turned the key and the engine obediently turned over, started.

“It sounds different.”

“Yeah, you had a few different things going on that were causing some really weird sounds before.”

“It sounds...happy.”

Keith couldn’t help smiling. “I think so. It’s what a healthy engine should sound like.”

Smiling, Shiro glanced at his mirrors, then released the parking break. Gently, the car rolled over the gravel, crunching. Driving carefully, he checked both ways at the bottom of the drive, then pulled out. Over the asphalt the car sounded almost like it was purring. Keith had to admit to himself he’d gone a bit overboard with the overhaul. He couldn’t let other people with cars from the 90s believe this was achievable. Well, not achievable for just anyone. 

Shiro was looking the most relaxed Keith had ever seen him in a car. It surprised him a bit. Then he remembered Shiro had been in the passenger seat when the accident happened. It had to feel like you were less in control there, whereas when you drove yourself, it was different. 

It made him smile that the older man kept his hands at ten to two, checked his mirrors at regular intervals and signalled dutifully, even though there was no one else on the road. He’d read that a large portion of current drivers would fail their driving tests if retaken now but Shiro looked like he was just as aware of himself in the driver’s seat as when an instructor was watching him from the backseat.

“I don’t think this car drove this well when I bought it.”

“It needed...a bit, of TLC.”

Shiro laughed. “I can imagine that it involved a bit more than that.”

“Okay, you got me. I had to sell my soul to the CEO of Jeep to be let in on some trademark secrets. This road is 30 mph,” he added gently as the car was creeping forward at 17.

“I don’t want the bow to blow off.”

“I’d forgotten about that. Lance did it.”

“I like it. I may never take it off. Makes me feel like a winner.”

Keith laughed, imagining the people of Altea watching the town veterinarian drive around in a muscular black car with a giant pink bow on top. He didn’t doubt Shiro would do it too. He never cared what people thought, did things just because they made him happy. 

“So…” Keith’s gaze slid away, hid under his bangs. “My parents called.”

Shiro indicated, looked ahead, and turned. Keith could still tell he heard every word and was paying attention to him. 

“They...they wanted to know if...if you’re coming over for Christmas.”

“Do you want me to?”

Keith blinked. He’d expected maybe a “I have plans”, or “that’s a big step”, not a question with such an obvious answer.

“Yes.”

Shiro’s face split in a smile. “Then I’d love to. Do we need to bring anything? Do you guys do gifts?”

“Ah...you want to? Celebrate Christmas with my parents?”

“Sure. That’s what you’ll be doing, isn’t it? And I want to spend the holiday with you.”

“There’ll be like...uncles, and cousins, and friends and...stuff.”

Shiro was turning back up the drive, the car rolling gently. “Is this you warning me because you don’t like crowds or you don’t want me there?”

“I always want you,” Keith said simply. “It’s more...it’s going to be embarrassing, awkward probably. They’ll ask you questions, think it’s funny to grill you for “your intentions”.”

“Keith,” Shiro’s voice was warm and once the car stopped his hand came to rest on Keith’s knee. “I have a standing invitation to Allura’s family, which is great of them. But I can’t think of a place I’d rather be, at any time, than with you. Besides, getting to  know your family will be fun. I can take a good natured ribbing.” His hand tightened on his leg, voice dropping. “And I’ll tell them my intentions are less than honourable, edging in on the depraved.”

Keith couldn’t help laughing, imagining his uncles’ faces if Shiro used that line on them. “Okay. Okay then. Christmas at the Kogane’s.”

“Christmas at the Kogane’s,” Shiro replied happily. 

o.O.o

“I’m sorry you couldn’t get home for Christmas.”

Allura, who actually no longer terrified Keith with her good looks and city polish, smiled and sipped her mulled wine. 

“It’s a shame, but I have to admit I am enjoying myself a lot here. And a white Christmas is nothing to sneeze at. We don't often get that in the city.”

Delicately she brushed imaginary lint from her velvet silver dress. He’d noticed more than one of his relatives checking it out, and then receiving glared daggers from Lance. 

The snow had come to stay this time, breaking records and leaving Altea all but snowed in. The ploughs would clear the roads but it’d take time. Time that Allura didn’t have if she wanted to make it back to her family for Christmas. As Keith knew his mother would have a fit if he let anyone sit alone on the holiday, he invited her over. With the same warning he’d given to Shiro, spelling out crowds, noise and too much mulled wine. She’d happily accepted and had arrived with a bottle of wine and homemade cookies. His mother had approved. His uncles had looked like they more than approved.

“Unless it snows so much you get stuck in this house.”

“Somehow I feel that would bother you more than me.”

He had to laugh. “True.”

Looking past him, Allura smiled at something. “He looks so happy here.”

Keith glanced behind him to see Shiro standing over the mulled wine pot, stirring under the tutelage of Keith’s dad. Every line of his body looked at ease, and beginning crow’s feet creased around his eyes when he laughed. His sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, his white shirt protected by a hideous apron. Keith had to agree, Shiro looked really happy.

As if he could feel he was observed, he looked up. The smile stayed in place but shifted character, grew tender and warm and somehow...intimate. Keith shifted, warmth washing over his cheeks. A brief hope he’d get snowed into his own house with Shiro there flashed in his mind. 

Beside him, Allura sighed. “One day, I hope someone looks at me that way.”

Keith was about to say Lance would look at her any way that she wanted if she’d let him, but stopped himself in time. He’d rather not get killed on Christmas Eve.

“I’m sure some people already do.”

“No,” she shook her head and her silver hair fell forward. “They may like what they see when they look at me, but no one’s looked at me that way. Like they love me inside out, through anything. With this...understanding of who I am.”

Keith mumbled, “You sound like Shiro. He can do that too, put feelings into words.”

She shrugged elegantly, lifting one shoulder. “Sometimes words are just superfluous. I believe the old adage, actions speak louder.”

Keith hoped that was true. Because he’d never have the words, it wasn’t how he worked. But he knew he loved Shiro, knew that he always would. And there were ways to say that with no words. And best of all, Shiro understood all he never said, just as he understood when he said it but in the wrong way.

“Maybe they do.”

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


The party was winding down when one of Keith’s many uncles wandered over, his brothers in tow. The large man leaned companionably against the kitchen counter next to Shiro. 

“So...what are your intentions for our Keith?”

Smiling into his bottle of beer, Shiro looked over to where Keith was sitting on the couch. He was talking quietly to Pidge, gesturing about something. Dressed in one of his three dress shirts he looked tidier than usual, his hair brushed back into a stubby tail. His jeans didn’t have a single hole in them.

“I love him and one day I hope he’ll agree to marry me.”

The uncle blinked. The ones behind him drew a collective breath. 

To Shiro himself it was no surprise. He’d known for ages he wanted Keith, forever. It’d take some time, because Keith didn’t hurry himself along, and Shiro was happy to wait. He’d wait all his days if that was what it took but he was hoping sometime next year they could start talking about it. 

“And...and you think you’re worthy of him?”

It was cute, this intervention. Shiro wasn’t insulted in the slightest. “I hope that he thinks so. He’s the best man I know and what he thinks of me means a lot. I wish to be the man that he sees when he looks at me. He looks at me and sees someone whole, worthy, special. I want to be those things for him, so he helps me become them.”

The man next to him stared. “Well, you sure know how to knock the wind out of a man’s sails.”

“Sorry.”

“No, I…” The man tilted his head. “I think that maybe Keith sees who you really are, just like you see him. For…” he glanced over his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, you have our blessing.”

“It’s worth a lot. Thank you.”

  
  


o.O.o

  
  


Getting undressed after the party, Shiro put his dress shirt that despite the apron had mulled wine on it in the hamper.

“My family really likes you.”

“I like them too.”

“I saw that my uncles cornered you.”

“Ah, you noticed that?” Shiro climbed into bed, leaning his back against the headboard.

Keith frowned, pulling his undershirt off and tossing it in the direction of the hamper. “Do I...Did...Do I need to have a talk with them? About...boundaries?”

Shiro chuckled as Keith undid his jeans. “No. They weren’t disrespectful. They asked me about my intentions, like you said they would.”

Groaning, Keith buried his face in his hands. “Geez. They think they’re being funny, but I’ll tell them to leave it alone.”

“It’s fine. We came to an...understanding.”

Keith’s hands dropped, his eyebrow rising. “You did?”

“Uh-huh. They like me now.”

“How did you swing that?” He bent and picked up the jeans, tossing them over the chair assigned to the purpose.

Shiro looked away for a moment, his eyebrows knitting. Then his gaze returned to Keith’s.

“I told them that I love you, and that when you’re ready I am going to ask you to marry me.”

Keith froze in place. He had to look ridiculous, half in, half out of the bed, dressed only in his underwear. But he couldn’t move. Not when his brain was misfiring, the pistons galloping without getting any distance. Like the connection between the motor and the wheel axle was broken. 

“Did...did you just propose to me?”

Shiro smiled and reached out for him, gently tugging him into the bed.

“No, when I propose to you, you’ll know it. I’m telling you that when you’re ready, that’s my intention. Like I told your uncles.”

“I...how...Wh...What if I’m never ready?”

“Then I’ll wait forever. I love you, Keith, I just want to be with you.”

Keith’s entire heart lifted, like a hot air balloon, hovering above his chest, almost luminescent in the dark. He was glowing, from the inside out. 

“And...if I were ready now?”

“Then I’d marry you tomorrow.”

“It’s Christmas Day tomorrow.”

“Best present ever.”

Keith couldn’t help the laugh, spilling over, the happiness too big to be contained inside him. 

“I love you, Shiro.”

  
  
“I love you too.”

“And one day I will be ready.” Keith knew it. From the bottom of his heart. It just took him a little longer to get in tune with his emotions. He had to be the luckiest man in the world to find someone who understood that, and let him do things at a pace he was comfortable with.   


Shiro smiled sleepily. “I know you will.”

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowowowow, I can't believe I did it! I finished it! And okay, it was no longer fall at that point but I felt Christmas inspired. Thank you all who have been along for the ride, and for putting up with my (and Brain's) irregular updating. If you liked it, I am already working on my next Sheith project and I hope to see you there :)


End file.
